Lockdown
by ktschott7
Summary: The elusive Saints of South Boston have finally been captured and taken into custody. Incarcerated in the Hoag Maximum Security Prison, the MacManus brothers face the challenge of staying alive despite the insurmountable odds against them. Takes place directly after All Saints Day.
1. Chapter 1

Lockdown

Chapter 1

"Get 'em Murph!" Connor MacManus yelled from his spot on the sidelines where two older boys were holding him, arms behind his back. Murphy heard his brother's shout of support but didn't dare take his focus off of the threat in front of him.

A rather large group of kids had gathered, creating a circle around the two Irish boys, enthusiastically watching the confrontation unfold before them. In the center of the ring stood Murphy who, at the age of twelve, was slightly smaller than the other kids his age. However, what he lacked in size he more than made up for with his fiery personality and unbending, stubborn nature. Standing opposite of Murphy was a lean, red haired boy, who stood a solid head taller than his opponent and was approximately two years his senior.

"You've got this Liam, teach this fuckin' eejit how to mind his own fuckin' business!" One of the boys restraining Connor hollered to the red head in the center. Liam O'Malley was notorious for bullying and picking fights. The lad had a rage in him that never tired of seeing those weaker than him suffer. No one was really sure where this aggression stemmed from, although rumor would suggest it was fueled by his less than pleasant home life.

Murphy didn't care what the chump's home life was like, he wasn't afraid of a fight and refused to back down to the older boy. That afternoon, when Murphy had been sitting out in front of the school waiting for Connor so the brothers could walk the mile and a half across the small Irish town to their home, he had played witness to one of Liam's random acts of violence. Murphy sat and watched as the bully and three of his sidekicks had singled out one of the younger, smaller boys, the way a lion singles out a sick gazelle. The teasing had started out as verbal abuse and when that failed to garner the desired reaction it swiftly escalated to pushing, shoving and more violent methods.

Murphy narrowed his eyes in disdain and quickly scanned the area for any sign of a teacher or authority figure to step in and take control of the situation. There was no one to be found. Taking a deep breath, Murphy gained his feet and made his way across the schoolyard with long determined strides. So intent on their victim, the four bullies hadn't even noticed Murphy's approach.

"Back the fuck off of 'em Liam, he didn't do shit to you." At the sound of Murphy's voice the boys stopped and glanced over their shoulders before breaking out in laughter.

"What the fuck are you going to do about it MacManus?" One of the boys taunted, an evil grin spreading across his face as if daring Murphy to try something. Liam took note of the squared shoulders and determined set of Murphy's jaw, as well as the defying glint in the younger boys eyes and turned around to face this new challenge more fully. He smiled mockingly at the other boy and, without breaking eye contact with his young challenger, Liam brought his leg into a backswing; preparing to deliver another blow to the helpless, prostrate form on the ground before him. Without hesitation, Murphy charged the bully, Liam's foot never connecting with its intended target.

Connor knew, the second he stepped foot outside the school building, that there was trouble. The sound of shouting and cheering drew his attention to the far corner of the open field in front of the school. A crowd was quickly gathering there and he squinted, trying to see what had drawn their attention. The group parted for a brief moment, just long enough for Connor to catch a glimpse of his brother taking a swing at Liam O'Malley.

"Christ Murph," Connor muttered under his breath before taking off at a sprint across the field. The MacManus boys had a reputation of their own for being a bit on the scrappy side, but they never bullied or picked on those weaker than them. If a confrontation were to arise, for the sake of their Ma, the boys always attempted a peaceful resolution. However, if peace negotiations failed, neither brother had any qualms about taking it to the next level. It never mattered who or what started the fights, Connor and Murphy always had each other's backs.

By the time Connor arrived on the scene and pushed his way through the crowd, the fight had escalated and turned into a grappling match on the ground. Liam, who had gained the upper hand and was straddling Murphy's hips, brought his fist down hard into the younger boy's nose, causing a trickle of blood to flow down Murphy's face. Connor heard a curse, in what he knew to be French, escape his brother's lips, just as Liam hauled off and punched him again. Connor had seen enough.

Dashing forward, he wrapped his arms around Liam's chest, forcefully yanking the boy off of his brother. "Get the hell off of 'em!"

Liam whirled around and shoved Connor away from him. "Let your brother fight his own fuckin' battles!" Before Connor could react, he found himself trapped between two boys who were grabbing his arms and yanking him back to the edge of the ring. Murphy used the distraction to get his feet back under him and prepare himself for another round. He spared a brief glance at his brother, making eye contact and giving him a quick nod. He was okay.

Liam, satisfied that Connor would no longer get in the way, turned back to see Murphy gaining his feet and wiping the blood from his nose onto his shirt sleeve. "It's your lucky day MacManus. I'm feeling generous. If you can apologize, real nice-like, and admit your mistake in front of all these people, I'll let ya walk away now."

Murphy's eyes flashed fire at the suggestion and he let out a short, humorless laugh. "You hit like a fuckin' pussy," was his only response as he spit blood into the dirt at Liam's feet.

Liam's face turned red in anger but he didn't bother exchanging any more words, he just raised his fists to a ready position and began circling his prey. Murphy stood still, fists clenched at his sides, weight balanced evenly on the balls of his feet, his eyes never leaving the threat that was moving menacingly around him. He could hear Connor shouting his encouragement and the jeering of the other students as they made bets on who would come out victorious. Murphy forced it all to the background, his focus entirely on the older boy in front of him, waiting for him to make a move.

Liam took the first shot, a right hook, which Murphy easily dodged. Three more punches followed in rapid succession. Murphy ducked the first two, but the third hit its mark in the side of his face, throwing him off balance. The young boy recovered quickly and came up swinging, landing one punch to the red head's nose and another to his abdomen. The crowd reached a new level of excitement, as Liam's temper flared.

Murphy threw another punch putting his whole weight into the hit, and when it missed its mark, his momentum spun him around making him vulnerable. Liam grabbed the smaller boy from behind, pinning his arms to his side as he attempted to take him to the ground. Throwing his head back, Murphy caught Liam in the nose and a distinctive cracking sound told him it was now broken. The red haired boy let out a raging howl and released Murphy as his hands flew to his face, covering his new injury.

Taking advantage of the distracted and watery-eyed state of his opponent, Murphy grabbed the bigger boy by the back of the head and brought his knee up to meet his face. Liam dropped to the dirt and made no effort to rise. Murphy turned his back on the boy, attempting to walk away and end this, when the sound of Liam's voice stopped him. "Is that all you fuckin' got MacManus?"

Murphy turned to see that Liam had made it back up onto one knee, blood still pouring from the boy's nose. Not willing to walk away from the challenge, Murphy began striding back over to where Liam was still kneeling in the dirt. He had almost reached the older boy and yet he still hadn't made a move to stand all the way up. Murphy approached cautiously, not really sure what he was up to. It wasn't until he was about three feet away that Liam made a move. Without warning he sprang up from his place in the dirt, charging at the smaller boy, and tackled him full force into the ground. Murphy was hit so hard that the wind was knocked out of him. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, and he couldn't react when Liam's fist smashed into his face over and over. These were no ordinary punches. Something was different.

Connor could only watch in frustration as his brother was thrown to the ground. Murphy appeared to be making no effort to retaliate or get up and he started to grow concerned. "Come on Murph, get up," he quietly willed his brother to fight back. Connor saw Liam's knuckles come away red with his brother's blood and winced. What he couldn't see was the palm-sized rock the other boy had clenched inside his fist.

Every second that passed Connor's struggle to get loose grew more and more frantic. It was obvious the fight was over, yet Liam continued to bring his fists down relentlessly. "Let me go! It's fuckin' over, let me go!" Connor yelled at the boys holding his arms. After a few more moments of fighting and cursing the hands holding him back, Connor was finally allowed to go to his brother.

When he reached Murphy's side he grabbed Liam from behind and pulled him away from his brother's still form. Liam didn't fight when Connor pulled him away; he just grinned, taking one last glance at his handiwork, before turning and walking away.

Dropping to his knees at Murphy's side, Connor began to check him over. "Murph? Murphy can ya hear me? Jesus, look at ya." There was so much blood on his brother's face he couldn't tell where it all was coming from.

Murphy could feel Liam being dragged off of him and he could hear his brother calling his name but he couldn't form the words for a response. He was fighting like hell just to hold onto consciousness but darkness was pulling at him. Murphy trusted his brother with his life and now that he was here he knew he would be safe. With that last thought he let go and drifted off into the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

/ / /

"Murph? Can ya hear me brother? Come on Murphy, open your fuckin' eyes." Murphy clung to the sound of Connor's voice, allowing it to gently ease him back to consciousness. Slowly, he cracked one eyelid open, immediately regretting that decision as his pounding head protested the bright fluorescent lights above him. "Ah, there ya are Sleepin' Beauty. Have a nice nap did ya?" When he heard his brother's voice again Murphy opened his other eye, attempting to get a better look at his surroundings. The plain white walls, barred windows and prison guard keeping watch not ten feet away, grounded him to the reality of where they were; and it sure as hell wasn't the green fields of fuckin' Ireland.

"What the fuck happened?" He mumbled through his hands, which he was using in an attempt to block out the offensive light.

"I'll tell ya Murph, ya have a real way with the criminals. Those bastards, they just can't keep their hands off ya." Connor chuckled at the glare his brother laid on him before answering the real question. "Nothin' too serious though. Someone just needed to be taught a lesson on who he can and can't put his hands on is all."

Murphy glanced at Connor out of the corner of his eye, taking note of the fresh bruises and stitches decorating his brother's face. "Looks like it was pretty fuckin' serious to me."

"Well trust me brother, when I say you should really see the other guy. In fact ya can, he is right over there." Connor indicated the direction with a nod of his head.

Murphy grimaced as he pushed himself up on his elbows and glanced across the prison infirmary. Occupying a bed in the far corner of the room was a very large, brute of a man, who was so bruised and battered he looked as if he had been used as a piñata. Murphy recognized the fellow as Geno Pisani, an inmate who, back in the day, served as muscle for the Italian mafia. Raising his eyebrow in question he turned back to his brother. "He looks like he's seen better days. That your handiwork?"

"Aye, with no help from you I might add," Connor teased.

Murphy searched his memory, trying hard to recall the events that led them to their current situation. Slowly, the memories resurfaced. He remembered being out in the yard. He had been walking the perimeter of the outdoor enclosure with his brother and Romeo. Always keeping their backs to the fence and a watchful eye on the other inmates. The reputation of the Saints preceded them and everyone was familiar with the brothers and their divinely influenced mission. Geno Pisani was only one of the hundreds of convicts imprisoned at the Hoag to take issue with the Saints and their supreme form of justice. Needless to say, they were never safe here.

Murphy remembered hearing the sound of the three-second, one-tone bell that indicated the end of yard time and following his brother and Romeo to where the guards were lining the inmates up to head back to the cellblock. The trio had made it about half way across the yard when Murphy felt someone grab him from behind. The last thing he could recall was struggling to face his attacker before a blinding flash of pain exploded across the back of his skull. He was immediately swallowed by darkness.

Cringing at the memory, Murphy pushed himself all the way up into a sitting position despite the dizziness and nausea that was brought on by the movement. "Our friend Geno over there, was he the only one?" He asked his brother who had moved from his adjacent bed and was now sitting at the foot of Murphy's.

"Na, he had two of his pals in on it, but with Romeo's help we made quick fuckin' work of 'em." Connor reached a hand up and adjusted the bandage around his brother's head.

"Rome? Is he ok?" Murphy realized that their friend wasn't with them in the infirmary and worry gripped his heart.

"Aye, he's fine. He took a few good knocks, but nothin' that needed stitchin' up. They took him straight to solitary, which is where I'll be headed as soon as the doc gives his okay."

"What? What the fuck are they puttin' ya in there for!? It was self-defense! Do they just fuckin' expect us to roll over and let them beat the fuckin' shit out of us!?" Murphy's temper flared quickly, his anger getting the best of him as it so often did. His voice rose until he was almost shouting, which garnered the attention of the prison guard near by. The man took a step closer and pointed a finger in warning.

Connor laid a hand on this brother's shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "It may have been self-defense at first Murph, but," he chuckled lightly and a guilty grin spread across his face, "by the time it was all said and done we may have taken it a bit beyond that." Connor grew serious again and looked up to meet his brother's eyes. "Like I said, they needed to be taught a lesson. I wasn't going to fuckin' let this slide." He looked meaningfully at the bandage around Murphy's head.

Murphy nodded, he understood. He certainly didn't blame Connor for this and, had the roles been reversed, he would have done the same thing. Lowering his voice, he ventured a question he was dreading the answer to. "How long?"

Connor sighed and dropped his hand from his brother's shoulder. "Not too sure exactly. A week, maybe more."

"Fuck." Murphy rubbed a hand across his face before running it through his dark hair.

Connor understood why the news disturbed his brother, for the same worries had been eating away at him. Three weeks had passed since the events leading to the incarceration of the Saints took place. That is three weeks that they have been surviving in this shark tank where everyone was an enemy waiting for an opportunity to take a shot at them. Up to this point, the trio had managed to fend off trouble by sticking together and watching each other's backs'. The other inmates seemed hesitant to make a move, so long as the three of them remained vigilant and stayed close together. Now that Romeo and Connor were both sentenced to a week or more of solitary confinement, Murphy was on his own. He would be a lone swimmer in a sea of bloodthirsty sharks.

"Ya need to listen to me now Murph," Connor waited until he had his brother's full attention before continuing, "Ya got to play this fuckin' smart. Spend as much time in the cell as ya can and keep your back protected as often as possible. I want ya to…" Connor paused, knowing the reaction his next words would have, "I want ya to stay close to the guards. That way if trouble starts they can break it up quick."

Murphy gave a short, humorless laugh before glaring at his brother. "Ya mean cower behind the guards like a fuckin' pussy?"

Connor's frustration mounted and he resisted the urge to smack his brother in the head. "I mean act like a fuckin' man that wants to stay the fuck alive!"

Murphy understood the logic of the plan. However, his pride was having a hard time coming to terms with the idea of clinging to the guards like frightened child. Before he could respond their conversation was interrupted by the presence of a tall, light-haired, middle-aged man, sporting a white lab coat over suit pants and button down shirt. The brothers recognized the fellow as Dr. Schneider, the chief physician at the prison.

Dr. Schneider flashed them a friendly smile. "How we doing boys?" he asked in a kind voice. Connor and Murphy had noticed that, while every inmate wanted their heads on a plate, they actually had quite a few sympathizers among the prison staff. Dr. Schneider in particular, had had the opportunity to establish an easygoing relationship with the brothers during the time they spent in his infirmary recovering from the gunshot wounds they sustained the day they were taken into custody.

Connor nodded to the doctor and returned the smile. "Doin' alright Doc. Afraid Murph here has a bit of a headache though."

Pulling a small flashlight out of his front coat pocket, Dr. Schneider moved forward to examine Murphy. "It would be a miracle if he didn't. That was quite a hit you took Murphy," he said as he used his light to evaluate Murphy's pupil reaction. "Any nausea? Dizziness?" he questioned quietly, lowering his voice to accommodate their close proximity.

"Aye, a bit of both," Murphy responded matching the doctor's hushed tone.

Giving a little nod, Dr. Schneider returned his flashlight to his coat pocket and moved around his patient to check the wound on the back of his head. Murphy winced as the doctor pulled back the bandage and lightly prodded the area with his fingers. Satisfied with what he saw, he replaced the bandage and stepped back out in front of his patient.

"Well Murphy, the wound on your head is looking good. I don't think you will need stitches and keeping it wrapped will help with the swelling. However, you may have a mild concussion so I want to keep you here overnight for observation, just to be on the safe side. Okay?"

Murphy nodded and, although he didn't show it, he was slightly relieved at getting to delay his free swim with the sharks. Seeing that Murphy understood, Dr. Schneider continued. "I'm afraid the only thing I am allowed to offer to help manage your pain is Tylenol or Advil. Take your pick."

Murphy shook his head. "That's ok Doc, I can handle it."

Connor laughed at his brother's response. "Aye, Macho Murph here, he can handle anythin'." Reaching out, he ruffled Murphy's hair teasingly only to have his hand swatted away.

Dr. Schneider chuckled at their antics before turning his focus to Connor. "As for you, Mr. MacManus, your stitches are holding nicely. I want to put some antibiotic cream on and cover them with a few bandages. Infections come easily in this place." Pulling the necessary items from a drawer nearby, he directed Connor to move back over to his own bed. Pulling up a chair Dr. Schneider sat across from his patient and, using a cotton swab, began spreading a thick ointment across his stitches. "These sutures will dissolve on their own in a about a week, so no need to come back and have them taken out. Once I get these bandages in place I am going to have to release you into the custody of the guards." His eyes met Connor's for a brief moment before refocusing on his task. Connor didn't respond, he just nodded slightly and glanced over at his brother who was watching him closely.

After smoothing the last bandage down across Connor's cheekbone, the doctor rolled his chair back over to the cabinet, replacing the supplies and discarding the trash into a can nearby. "That'll do it!" He said with a smile. After cleaning up his mess, Dr. Schneider turned to Connor with a serious expression on his face. "I don't want to see you in here again. Do you understand? No more trouble." He cracked a small grin to let the brothers know he was halfway joking. "I will be back to check on you in a few hours Murphy. Try to stay awake if you can. I don't think your concussion is that serious, but better safe than sorry."

"Thanks Doc." Connor and Murphy replied in unison. Dr. Schneider gave a nod before turning to walk away. The brothers watched as the man exchanged a few words with the nearest guard before continuing about his business. After speaking with the doctor, the guard turned and headed in their direction.

Connor saw that their time was almost up and quickly moved back to his brother's side. Placing both hands on Murphy's shoulders he gave him a little shake. "Ya do what I fuckin' said, ya hear me Murphy? Lay low and watch your fuckin' mouth, you know it always gets ya into trouble."

"On your feet inmate." Connor heard the guard behind him but made no move to comply.

"Ya have to swallow your pride now Murph. If someone tries to start somethin' ignore it, let it go. We can take care of it together when I get out." Murphy didn't say anything; he just stared at his brother. "Ya fuckin' listenin' to me?" Connor asked when Murphy failed to acknowledge him.

"Don't make me ask you again MacManus. I said on your feet!" The guard was growing impatient.

Murphy saw the intensity in his brother's eyes. He knew that being stuck in solitary, while his brother was left to defend himself against such superior numbers, was going to drive Connor crazy. "I hear ya Connor. I'll do my best brother." Murphy spoke the words quietly, hoping they would ease his brother's mind.

Connor nodded and bent forward, resting his forehead against Murphy's bandaged one in a quick show of affection. After giving his brother a swift pat on the side of the face Connor stood to face the guard.

"Turn around. Arms behind your back." Connor did as he was told and felt a pair of cold, steel handcuffs tighten down on his wrists. He never broke eye contact with Murphy the entire time his back was to the guard. He was praying that the next time he saw his brother he would still be in one piece.

Once the handcuffs were in place the guard used them to pull his prisoner out in front of him and push him towards the exit. Connor hesitated at the door and turned, making eye contact with Murphy one last time, before allowing the guard to guide him down the hall.

After Connor disappeared through the door Murphy laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. This was wrong. It was wrong being without his brother. This whole situation was leaving him with a horrible, gut wrenching feeling. Closing his eyes, Murphy began to pray.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bright rays of morning sunshine streamed down through the barred windows of the infirmary, causing Murphy to flinch and open his eyes. His first instinct was to look around and find Connor and it took his brain a few moments to catch up to where he was and why he was there. Murphy allowed himself to lay there for a few minutes, letting the events of yesterday wash over him, before pushing himself into a sitting position and surveying his surroundings. The infirmary was peacefully quiet and the only member of the prison staff he could see was a guard posted up at the door. Geno was still passed out in a bed in the far corner and Murphy smiled to himself at the sight of his brother's handiwork. Connor had really done the bastard in.

"Good morning Murphy."

Murphy jumped at the sound of a voice on his left side. His arm came up automatically into a defensive position and his right hand curled into a fist at his side. He was surprised when he was met with Dr. Schneider's friendly face.

"Whoa, easy there. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Dr. Schneider raised his hands in a placative manner and took a seat next to Murphy's bed.

Letting out a slow breath, Murphy tried to calm himself as the adrenaline coursed through his system. "Sorry Doc, I'm a bit on edge apparently," He apologized and averted his gaze down to his hands, slightly embarrassed by his reaction.

Dr. Schneider nodded in understanding. He was well aware of Murphy's reasons for being so tightly wound. "No worries. It's fine Murphy." He gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before getting down to business. "How is your head feeling his morning?"

Murphy reached a hand to the back of his head, gingerly testing the wound with his fingers. "I feel like I've been hittin' the bottle all night playing one of Connor's stupid drinking games, but the nausea and dizziness are a bit better."

"Good, that's a good sign." After a quick examination of Murphy's pupils he nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. I'm feeling confident about releasing you from my care this morning." The doctor hesitated as if he wanted to say more but wasn't sure if he should cross that line.

Murphy picked up on the other man's hesitance and narrowed his eyes. "Somethin' else on your mind Doc?"

Dr. Schneider had been doing this job for ten years and it was his general rule to not get too emotionally invested in his patients. However, in this case he felt it was his duty as a doctor to say something. After a few more moments of indecision he made up his mind and continued speaking. "I heard you and your brother talking yesterday and I believe he is right. You wont be safe out there by yourself. How about you let me talk to the warden. I can recommend that he put you in protective custody until your brother and friend are released back into gen. pop."

Murphy started shaking his head before the doctor had finished speaking. "I appreciate your concern Doc, I really do, but I'm not a coward and I won't run and hide like such."

Dr. Schneider didn't give in. "It's not cowardly to want to live to see the end of the week. Your pride will only serve you so far in this situation."

"Now I know you've been talkin' to Connor." Murphy laughed.

The Doctor sighed and leaned back in his chair. "It's your choice Murphy. I just hate to see you endanger yourself so needlessly. You could become seriously injured or worse. Much worse."

"Well it's a good thing I have an excellent doctor standin' by, now isn't it?" Murphy grinned in an attempt to lighten the situation.

Leaning forward, Dr. Schneider rested his elbows on his knees and fixed Murphy with a serious gaze. "I have been working here a long time Murphy. I have seen firsthand the brutality some of these men are capable of. If they get a clear shot at you, they won't hesitate to take it. These people here, they don't play games."

The smile slipped from Murphy's face and he grew deadly serious. "Neither do I."

The doctor was taken aback by the intensity in the other man's eyes. It was easy to forget that, despite their friendly smiles and easygoing attitudes, these boys were ruthless murderers. Not wanting to push the issue further Dr. Schneider broke eye contact and relented to Murphy's fierce gaze. "Like I said, it's your choice." Standing from his chair he prepared to leave, "I will go inform the guards that you are ready for them."

"Hey Doc," Murphy called as the doctor began walking away. The man turned and looked back at him once more. "Thank ya for carin' enough to try."

Dr. Schneider gave a half smile and nodded. "Just doing my job," he said before walking away.

Once he was gone Murphy sighed to himself and lay back down against the pillows. Closing his eyes, he used this opportunity to say a little prayer and mentally prepare himself for the days to come. He was startled out of his thoughts by a guard kicking the foot of his bed.

"Let's go MacManus."

Murphy cracked one eye open and grinned up at the guard. "Well good mornin' to you too."

The guard wasn't amused. "On your feet, let's go," he repeated the order again, louder this time.

Murphy rolled his eyes and slowly gained his feet. "Well aren't you a fuckin' bright and happy ray of sunshine, officer…" he squinted in an attempt to read the man's name badge, "Jones is it?"

The guard's eyes turned angry and he reached up and smacked Murphy hard in the side of the head. "You better watch your fucking mouth inmate," he said as he grabbed the prisoner's arms and yanked him around to slap the cuffs on his wrists.

Murphy cringed and sucked in his breath at the abuse to his recently obtained head injury. "Christ, I was just fuckin' jokin' around!"

"Does it look like I think you are fucking funny?" he growled. Once the cuffs were in place the guard pushed him, none too gently, towards the exit.

Murphy glanced back over his right shoulder at the man's angry face. He smiled to himself and wisely chose not to answer the rhetorical question. This guy was obviously not a fan. Murphy decided it wasn't worth trying to make conversation with the guard guiding him through the prison and resigned to walking the halls in silence.

The Hoag Maximum Security Prison was located twenty-eight miles south west of Boston, Massachusetts. The compound was situated on a thirty-two acre lot with a twenty-foot concrete wall surrounding the entire perimeter. The wall was fixed with eight guard towers and five strands of electric wire across the top. The prison itself consisted of four buildings. Cellblocks A and B were in one building, blocks C and D in another. Both cellblock buildings were connected to the main structure, which held the infirmary, cafeteria and kitchen, guards' quarters, armory, a small library and few classrooms for educational programs. The fourth building, which was located off the far north corner of the main structure, was for housing inmates in solitary confinement and those under psychiatric evaluation.

Officer Jones led Murphy through the halls of the main building until they reached the barred entrance to cellblock D. All cellblock entrances and cell doors were controlled electronically through the control room in each block. Pulling his prisoner to a stop, Jones signaled into the D block control room to the guard on duty and within seconds the cellblock door slid open with a bang. Each cellblock contained twenty cells split into two levels. The cell doors were kept open for two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening, allowing the inmates' access to roam their block or make use of the tables on the ground level.

The other inmates' had already been served their morning meal and were taking advantage of their two hours of morning free time when Murphy was pushed into their midst. A hush fell over the group of convicts and he could feel the eyes on him as officer Jones removed his handcuffs and turned him loose. Murphy looked around at the sea of unfriendly faces before squaring his shoulders and, very calmly, making his way to his ground level cell at the far end of the block. As he walked, a few of the inmates' stood to their feet and followed threateningly in his wake. He glanced at them over his shoulder but showed no fear, he just continued his slow, steady pace.

When he arrived at his cell, Murphy quickly ducked inside and let out a long, shaky breath. He looked around the tiny eight by ten enclosure before taking a seat on the bottom bunk and placing his back against the wall. He sat like that for a long time, his eyes never leaving the entrance, prepared for anything. A few prisoners came and hovered outside the door but no one made a move to enter. Some of them stood whispering amongst themselves, others just poked their heads in long enough to offer up a malicious grin before laughing and walking away. Murphy didn't respond to their intimidation tactics. He remained where he was on the bottom bunk with one foot on the floor, the other propped up on the bed with his arm draped casually across his knee, and stared unflinchingly out at the circling sharks.

/ / /

Connor paced the length of his small isolation cell over and over again. He tried counting his steps, attempting to give his brain something to focus on, but lost count somewhere around six hundred and eighty seven. Kicking the concrete wall in frustration, he lay down on the small single bed and relaxed back into the thin pillow.

Staring up at the ceiling, Connor finally succumbed to all the negative thoughts that had been trying to have their way with him since he was tossed into this hole. He thought about Romeo and felt a stab of guilt. He understood that the man had made his own decision about getting involved with the Saints, hell he had begged to be let in, but he still felt responsible for the safety of his loyal friend. Connor was afraid of failing him… the same way he had failed Rocco. He knew if Rocco were alive today the man would have no regrets about the way things went down, but that didn't ease the pain of Connor's guilt.

His thoughts continued to spiral down a self-condemning path as he thought about Greenly and his Da, two more people who had lost their lives in the name of their mission. Connor knew he shouldn't carry the weight of these deaths on his heart. They had all known the risks and they had all died for a cause they believed in. Greenly had used his dying breath to tell him and Murphy that helping them had been the proudest day of his life.

Despite the loss of good lives, Connor would never regret the choices that brought them here. This was the way it had to be. It was the Lord's plan. If they hadn't done the things they did, then who knows how many more innocent lives would have been lost. The people he and Murphy had killed didn't deserve to walk this beautiful Earth. The world was a safer place without them.

Connor sat up with a sigh and scrubbed his face with his hands as restlessness overtook him once more. Gaining his feet he continued pacing. Thoughts of his brother entered his mind. He missed him. Connor and Murphy were very rarely apart and his brother's absence left a gaping hole in his soul that could only be filled when they were together, the way they had been their entire lives. Sure, he and Murphy fought often enough. Occasionally their arguments would take a turn for the worse and develop into full, knock- down, drag -out brawls, but more often than not their squabbles were over something stupid that might result in a quick wrestling match on the floor before ending with good natured taunting and a toast over a bottle of whisky. Still, it never mattered how many times the brothers beat the shit out of each other, they never once considered going their separate ways. They weren't just brothers, they were twins. He and Murphy came into this world together and, if Connor had any say in the matter, they would leave it the same way. Most people didn't make the twin connection as they were fraternal twins and really looked nothing alike. Connor had lighter hair, bordering on blonde, and Murphy's was more of a dark brown. However, the brothers had one physical feature that they both shared and that was their striking blue eyes.

Connor felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Murphy out there alone. His brother had always been the more impulsive and quick-tempered of the two, while Connor was more of a levelheaded plan maker. Murphy always managed to find trouble more often than his brother but, no matter what, Connor was always there to back him up. Until now. Now Murphy was by himself and that thought scared the shit out of him. It wasn't that he doubted his brother's abilities. He knew that Murphy was perfectly capable of taking care of himself and, if a conflict arose, there was no one else Connor would rather have at his side. However, this situation wasn't just some random bar fight. A majority of these people were in here for violent crimes and Murphy was severely outnumbered. Connor couldn't be there for his brother like he had been their entire lives and it was eating away at him. All he could do now was sit inside this fucking cell while the most important person in his life struggled to survive.

Connor's pacing grew more violent as his thoughts grew darker. He hadn't felt this helpless since the Checkov incident. He didn't like to think about that, but the more agitated he became the less he could control the direction his thoughts took him. Connor remembered the way the handcuffs bit into his wrists as he fought with everything he had to get loose. The helplessness he felt as he watched those fucking Russians drag his brother out to the ally to execute him, was all too similar to what he was feeling now. At the time, he had managed to channel all of his fear and rage into finding the strength to escape, but now Connor was faced with those same desperate emotions and nowhere to channel them. Desperate for an outlet, he began beating uselessly on the steel door of his solitary cell. He would pace to the back wall then back to the door and each time he came to the door he would punch it as hard as he could. Connor continued this until he ran out of energy and his knuckles bled. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his bed, cradling his injured hand, and eventually fell into a troubled sleep.

/ / /

"MacManus, you have a visitor."

Murphy raised his head up off his pillow and stared in surprise at the guard on the other side of the bars. "A visitor?" he asked in disbelief. The guard nodded once in affirmation.

Murphy's cell door had just been closed for the afternoon and he was relieved at finally being able to relax and let his guard down for a bit. However, if he truly had a visitor he knew this was a conversation he needed to have. There was only one person on his and Connor's visitor list and it was Father Sibeal MacManus, their uncle. Father Sibeal was a very influential member of the Catholic Church, not just back in Ireland, but here in Boston as well where he had many friends and connections. Their uncle had been the one to inform them of the murder of Father McKinney, which was the event that led the brothers out of retirement and back to the states. He was a good man and, for the most part, supportive of his brother and nephews' mission.

Murphy stood to his feet and put his back to his cell door with his hands through the bars so the guard could cuff him. Once the restraints were in place Murphy stepped forward and waited for the guard to radio into the control room to open his cell. The door slid open and the guard motioned for Murphy to step out in front of him and directed him toward the cellblock exit. The other prisoners came and stood at their cell doors, watching as Murphy was led past. He kept his eyes forward and paid no attention to the glares and mumbled threats that were thrown his way.

"You seem to have made a few friends during your stay," the guard commented once they were clear of the cellblock.

Murphy laughed at the man's sarcasm. "Aye, all puppy dogs and rainbows that group." He could hear the guard chuckle behind him and smiled to himself. It was nice to interact with someone who wasn't out for his blood.

They walked the rest of the way in silence and upon reaching the visitation room the guard removed the cuffs and directed him over to where his visitor was waiting. Murphy sat down across from his uncle and stared at him through the thick plate of glass that separated them. The older man looked relieved to see his nephew alive and well. Father Sibeal picked up the phone and Murphy followed suit.

"How are ya holdin' up Murphy? Is everythin' all right? They told me Connor was in isolation and couldn't be seen. What happened?"

Murphy held up his hands, halting the barrage of questions before addressing his uncle. "We're all right, everythin' is fine. Things are a bit…hostile to say the least, but we're hangin' in there. There was an altercation with another inmate yesterday and it landed Connor in solitary confinement. He should be out in a week or so."

"And you? Are ya doin' all right on your own?" he asked, slightly alarmed by the situation.

"Aye, for now."

Father Sibeal nodded. "Good. You boys just need to hang in there a bit longer. I wanted ya to know that ya have people workin' on this for you on the outside."

Murphy looked puzzled. "What people?"

"You boys have gathered quite a followin'. The public is pretty much divided down the middle, but you have half the city of Boston demandin' your release. There has been a steady stream of protestors outside the prison since the day you were taken into custody. Protestors alone wont get much done but ya also have the backin' of the Catholic Church. It took some convincin' but, with the exception of a few members, they are prepared to support you. We have contacted a very good lawyer and he believes he can make a case for your release. He will be wantin' to meet with you boys soon to discuss a strategy."

Murphy took a few moments to absorb everything his uncle had just said. He wasn't sure how he felt about the protestors and the show of public support. He supposed it was good to have people on their side but the last thing he wanted was to be idolized and have their lives paraded around and exposed by the media. Anonymity was important and Murphy knew Connor would agree.

Father Sibeal gave his nephew a few minutes to process the information before he continued speaking. "There is more," he paused until Murphy looked up at him, "I have been workin' closely with an old friend of yours. He believes it is a good idea to have a secondary plan in place in case the lawyer's efforts fall through."

"Friend? What friend?" Murphy asked, thoroughly confused.

"I'm afraid I can't really say anymore on that subject. Not here. Ya just have to trust that everythin' that can be done for you boys is bein' done."

Murphy relented his curiosity and nodded. "Thank ya Father."

"I promised your Da, if anythin' happened to him, I would keep an eye on you boys. I intend to do just that."

Murphy felt a pang of sadness at the mention of his Da, but he managed to give his uncle a grateful smile.

"As soon as Connor gets out I will set up a time for you boys to meet with the lawyer and we will go from there." When Murphy nodded he continued. "I should probably be going, I have to meet with…" Father Sibeal stopped himself and looked around before continuing, "…well, I have a meeting. Would ya like to take a moment to pray with me before I go?"

"Aye," Murphy said, and he closed his eyes and bowed his head, allowing the Father to lead them in a prayer. When they were done he crossed himself and looked back up at his uncle. "Thanks again Father, we really appreciate all you are doin'?"

"Take care of yourself Murphy, I will be in touch." With that, Father Sibeal hung up the phone and stood to leave.

Murphy watched the older man walk out the door as the guard came to replace his handcuffs and escort him back to his cell. He was silent on the way back as he considered everything Father Sibeal had said. Murphy felt like he was left with more questions than answers. When his uncle had said "secondary plan" was he referring to breaking out? Murphy wasn't sure how he felt about that. He and Connor both believed that they were in this place for a reason, but could they really do more good inside this prison than out on the streets? At least in here the convicts were locked away from innocent civilians, as opposed to the criminals who were still free to roam the city. Murphy was conflicted and he desperately wished he had Connor here to consult with.

Once Murphy was locked away back in his cell he plopped down on his bottom bunk and closed his eyes. It was still only early afternoon and the mid-day meal wouldn't be served for another hour. After lunch, was a full hour of yard time followed by more cell time, dinnertime, then two more hours of free time before lights out. Murphy knew he would need his strength to stay on his toes and make it through the rest of the day, so he allowed himself to drift off into a light sleep.

When he awoke it was to the sound of every cell door in the block opening simultaneously. Lunchtime. Since the guards couldn't cuff them and walk them all separately to the cafeteria, the inmates were lined up together and escorted as a group with four or five guards as entourage. Unwilling to turn his back on them, Murphy waited at the door of his cell until the other prisoners were lined up then he took a spot at the end of the line. The walk there was uneventful and when they reached the cafeteria the guards backed away and stood along the perimeter of the room to keep watch while the inmates ate their meal.

Murphy waited in line and accepted his tray of food with a nod in thanks before turning and scanning the area for a safe place to sit. Spotting an empty table in the far corner he made his move. About halfway to his destination Murphy glanced to his left and caught sight of a large, bald headed man with an unidentifiable neck tattoo, eyeing him like a piece of meat. When the other man saw he had Murphy's attention he flashed him a dangerous smile and patted the empty seat next to him in invitation. Murphy narrowed his eyes and shook his head at the man before passing the table up. The inmate who had offered up the seat glared at Murphy's retreating back and turned to whisper something to the other members of his group.

When Murphy reached the empty table he sat down and began to lightly pick at his meal. His head still ached fiercely and the food in front of him churned his stomach, but he forced himself to take a few bites anyway. Murphy stiffened when he felt someone sit down across from him and looked up to find himself face to face with Tattoo Neck.

Setting down his fork, Murphy leaned back and stared coolly at the man across the table. "Is there somethin' I can fuckin' help ya with?"

"I saved you a seat," Tattoo Neck nodded in the direction of his table.

"Not interested," Murphy replied calmly.

Narrowing his eyes, the other inmate set his elbows on the table and leaned forward threateningly. "I couldn't help but notice you are all alone now. Alone is a dangerous thing to be in this place. How about you come sit with us and we will see to it that no one bothers you."

Murphy laughed once in disbelief. "And I suppose you would be willin' to do this out of the kindness of your heart, eh?" he asked sarcastically.

Tattoo Neck grinned and removed his arms from the table, leaning back into a more relaxed position. "Ah, well you know you can't get something for nothing, especially in this place. However, I'm not an unreasonable guy. We will offer you our protection and all I ask in return is that you let me call you mine. Being able to have one of Boston's Saints as my bitch is payment enough." He laughed as Murphy's eyes turned deadly.

"As I said before, I'm not fuckin' interested." Murphy leaned in closer before continuing. "I would face down this entire fuckin prison by myself before I even considered gettin' mixed up with a piece of shit like yourself." Murphy had been trying to keep a cool head but he had no tolerance for the games this asshole was trying to play.

Tattoo Neck turned angry and looked as if he wanted to take a swing him, but he managed to calm himself down. "Fine, have it your way you Irish fuck. I'll just let them kill you and with you gone that fucking brother of yours will be all on his own. But don't worry, I will make him the same offer I made you."

Murphy had heard enough. He knew there was no danger of Connor ever making such a deal, but he was tired of listening to this vile man talk. Quicker than Tattoo Neck could react Murphy flipped his tray of food into the other man's face. His meal went flying in all directions and both men jumped to their feet. Murphy looked as if he was about to launch himself across the table when the sound of a guard's baton smacking down on a hard surface echoed through the cafeteria. Both inmates stopped in their tracks and looked up.

"Make one more move and you will both be headed to solitary! Sit down! Now!" The guard looked prepared to take further action should the two men decide to ignore him and continue fighting. Luckily for him, both inmates stood down.

Murphy grinned tauntingly at the man across from him who was slowly making his way back to his original table. Tattoo Neck muttered something unintelligible under his breath but there was no mistaking the threat in his eyes. After gathering what he could of his scattered lunch Murphy took his seat and tried to ignore the many sets of eyes that were on him.

The rest of mealtime passed without incident and when it was over the inmates were moved outside for an hour of yard time. Murphy was a bit uneasy about being back in the outdoor enclosure but he played it cool. As much as it bruised his pride he followed Connor's advice and stayed close to the guards. He posted himself up by the entrance, keeping his back to the fence and his eyes on the other inmates. Murphy maintained that position for the entire hour and it was a relief when the guards finally lined them up and led them back to D block. The inmates were directed back into their cells and a quick head count was taken before the doors were closed. It was mentally exhausting constantly keeping his guard up and, when Murphy's cell finally closed, he collapsed onto his bed and passed out instantly.

That evening, after an uneventful dinner, the inmates were left to roam the cellblock for their two hours of free time before lights out. Murphy remained seated on the floor of his cell with his back against the far wall and his eyes on the doorway. His nerves were shot and he had chewed his thumbnail down to the quick as he often did when he was under stress. When the guards finally turned out the lights and closed the cellblock up for the night, Murphy crawled from his spot on the floor up into his bed and lay on his back, staring up at the top bunk above him where Connor normally slept. He knew that, somewhere in the prison ranks, there was a Saints supporter because he and Connor had been assigned to the same cell, with Romeo in the cell directly across from them where they could keep an eye on him.

Murphy wondered how Connor was holding up. He knew his brother was probably going crazy in isolation and would be willing to bet that his twin had already worn a groove in the floor from endless pacing. Connor never could sit still when he was anxious; a habit that often drove Murphy a bit crazy. Having his brother gone was like missing a piece of himself and it left him with an acute sense of loneliness. Connor was his best friend and the one person in his life who had always been there when he needed him. Their Ma may have never divulged her closely guarded secret of which twin was born first but it really didn't matter because Connor had always filled the big brother role much better than he did. Murphy rolled over with a sigh and allowed thoughts of his family to relax him and carry him into sleep.

/ / /

Over the next three days Murphy stuck to his strategy of remaining close to the guards and staying in his cell as often as possible. Aside from dirty looks and mumbled threats, no one had made a move on him yet. It was on the morning of his fifth day alone that Murphy could sense a change in the air. In the cafeteria at breakfast he could feel the eyes and hear the whispers but when he looked they would avert their eyes. Looking around the dining hall he noticed the only inmate who would meet his gaze was Tattoo Neck, and his expression was less than friendly. Murphy kept his senses sharp and tried to ignore the tension but his instincts were screaming at him that something wasn't right.

After breakfast the prisoners were taken back to their cellblock for free time and Murphy took up his usual spot on the floor against the back wall of his cell. About halfway into their two hours he raised his head sharply as the sound of a scuffle and shouting reached his ears. Standing quickly to his feet Murphy crossed the length of his cell and leaned out the door, trying to see what was happening. It appeared that two inmates had gotten into an argument and were now brawling it out on the floor while the guards attempted to separate them.

Focused on what was happening at the other end of the cellblock, Murphy was completely unprepared when two men came out of nowhere and slammed into him, forcing him to the back of his cell. He may have been caught off guard but he recovered quickly and began fighting back. One of his attackers was attempting to pin him up against the wall and Murphy brought his elbow down hard on the back of his head.

"Son of a bitch!" the recipient of Murphy's elbow cursed.

"Hold him damnit!" the other inmate growled.

Murphy kicked out at the one who spoke and nailed him in the stomach, doubling him over. After the inmate recovered from the kick he rushed forward and punched Murphy in the face in an attempt to subdue him. The blow barely slowed him down and he continued to fight like a cornered wildcat. Murphy saw the man who had punched him pull a shank from his pocket and aim for his midsection but the makeshift knife never met its mark. He had managed to push away the man that had been holding him against the wall and used the opportunity to deflect the stab and punch his attacker in the side of the head. Two against one was an unfair fight in any setting, but in such tight quarters it was impossible for Murphy to fend off both assailants at the same time and he quickly found himself being pressed back up against the wall. The inmate with the shank recovered from the blow to his head and, raising his weapon, he prepared to take another stab, this time in Murphy's heart. Murphy saw the prisoner's intention and desperately grabbed the man's arm while simultaneously attempting to fight off the inmate keeping him pinned to the wall. Murphy lacked both the strength and the leverage to fend off the incoming spike but managed to divert it up away from his heart and into his shoulder. The pain was intense and Murphy cried out in rage.

"Fuck! Fuck you! Motherfucker!"

The shank was ripped from his shoulder and brought back, ready to be plunged into him again, when the guards finally caught on to what was happening and spilled into his cell. Using their batons they beat his attackers to the ground and slapped handcuffs on their wrists before yanking them up and hauling them out. Murphy allowed himself to slide down the wall till he was sitting on the ground. Gripping his injured shoulder, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm his racing heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Are you ok? Where are you hurt?"

Murphy, who was still sitting on the floor against the back wall of his cell, looked up into the eyes of the person who was speaking to him. He recognized the young man as the prison guard who had joked around with him the day his uncle had come to visit. "Aye, I'm fine." Murphy winced as he lifted his hand from his wound to inspect it more closely. "It's only my fuckin' shoulder."

The guard inhaled sharply when he caught sight of the injury. "That looks deep. Come on, we need to get you help. Can you stand?"

Murphy looked back up at the guard and was surprised by the genuine concern he saw in the young man's gaze. He nodded and accepted the hand being offered down to him. He was unsteady on his feet for a moment and the guard reached a hand out to support him. "Thanks," Murphy said, sincerely grateful for the man's help.

The guard gave a thin smile and lay a gentle hand on Murphy's back, directing him out of the cell. "Let's just get you up to the infirmary."

Out in the cellblock, the other guards were busy ordering inmates back into their cells preparing to lockdown D block. Murphy could see up ahead where his attackers were being forcefully shoved through the cellblock door on their way to solitary.

"Edwards! What in the hell do you think you're doing?" a voice from across the block yelled out.

The officer accompanying Murphy pulled up short and turned to face the man who had spoken. "I was just going to escort Mr. MacManus to the infirmary. He has an injury that needs medical attention."

"You're not going anywhere until that inmate is properly restrained."

Murphy glanced behind him and recognized the guard speaking as officer Jones. The man was glaring at him like he expected him to make a break for it at any moment. The guard, who Murphy now knew as Edwards, was looking back and forth between his prisoner and officer Jones, obviously at a loss.

"He was just stabbed in his shoulder, sir. I don't think he is going to try anything, and moving his arm to cuff him will only cause him more pain and possibly more damage."

Jones yanked a pair of handcuffs off his belt and strode over to where Edwards was standing with Murphy. "I don't give two shits about his pain! The only thing I care about is the safety of my officers!" he yelled, thrusting the restraints in the other guard's face. "Now cuff him, or I will."

"Yes sir," Edwards conceded, accepting the metal cuffs.

Murphy watched the exchange unfold and, when it became clear that he was going to have to endure the handcuffs, he removed his right hand from where he was using it to keep pressure on his still bleeding wound and put his arms behind his back. The movement put a strain on his injury, causing him to squeeze his eyes tightly shut. Officer Edwards heard a quiet groan escape the prisoner's throat and he gave him an apologetic look. Once the restraints were in place he turned back to his superior officer and raised his eyebrow in question.

Officer Jones inclined his head in approval. "Now get him out of here."

Edwards turned to continue on his way when officer Jones stopped him again. "And Edwards," he waited until the younger man turned to face him, "after you deliver him, we need you back down here to help toss these cells."

Edwards gave a quick nod before continuing to gently lead Murphy out of the cellblock. "I'm sorry," the guard apologized quietly once they reached the halls of the main building.

Murphy glanced sidelong at the young man walking next to him. The lad couldn't have been older than twenty-five, and he had a gentleness about him that was out of place amongst the bloodthirsty criminals. Murphy saw guilt in the guard's eyes and he shook his head. "Ya don't need to be. Most of these guys in wouldn't think twice about knockin' ya over the head if they thought they could get away with it. Those rules are there to protect ya. I understand that."

Officer Edwards looked briefly over at Murphy before shrugging his shoulders and returning his gaze in front of him. "Yeah, I guess. If you were any other inmate I wouldn't have hesitated but, you and your brother, you're not like the other prisoners here. You're different."

Murphy raised his eyebrows and an amused grin spread across his face. "Is that so? And what makes you so sure about that? Haven't you heard? I'm a vicious criminal. I'm fuckin' scary, man."

Edwards didn't smile at Murphy's attempt at humor; he just nodded and shrugged his shoulders again. "Maybe so, but I'm still not worried. I do know that there are men out there, and in here, who have great cause to fear you and your brother. That is why every convict in this place wants to see you dead. You, and the things that you stand for, scare them, and that is not an emotion they are accustomed to feeling."

The young man's insight had caught him off guard and Murphy wasn't quite sure how to respond. The pain in his shoulder was growing worse and he used the discomfort as a distraction from the conversation.

Officer Edwards took note of the way his prisoner winced while shifting his arms in the cuffs and he pulled the man to a stop. "Let me take another look." Peeling the blood-soaked shoulder of Murphy's navy blue prison jumpsuit away from the wound, he inspected the deep puncture. Shaking his head in disgust, the young man retrieved his keys from his pocket and stepped behind his prisoner, preparing to un-cuff him.

Murphy realized the guard's intention and tried to stop him. "Ya shouldn't do that. Really, it's fine. No need to be gettin' yourself in trouble."

"I'm just moving your hands in front of you. The angle should put less strain on that shoulder." One of his wrists was freed from the restraints and Murphy breathed a sigh of relief at being allowed to reposition his arms into a more comfortable position. "It's still bleeding pretty heavy. Here, we can use this," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of the front pocket of his uniform. "I can keep pressure on it while we walk."

Murphy nodded his agreement and, despite the pain it caused, allowed the young man to press firmly against the injury. Once everything was situated, Edwards continued to lead them down the hall in silence.

/ / /

Connor lay on his back on the small bed in his solitary cell, his eyes focused on the ceiling. He had removed one of his socks and tied it in a series of knots, creating a makeshift ball. Every thirty seconds or so he would throw his "ball" up in the air with his left hand and catch it with his bandaged right hand. He had been at this for hours now, or was it days? Time was a hard thing to keep track of in this place. He had been counting the meals brought to him by the guards and knew that he was in his fifth day of confinement, although it felt like months. During that time Connor had slept very little. It was hard, without any windows, to know if it was night or day. The entire experience had been rather disorienting.

Connor threw his sock in the air again, but this time when it came back down it slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. With a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, rubbing his aching eyes and running a hand through his messy hair. He fidgeted absent-mindedly with the white gauze covering his right hand.

Somewhere around day two, the guards had taken note of his injured hand and drug him to the infirmary to get it fixed up. Dr. Schneider, despite being less than impressed with the self-destructive nature of Connor's injury, had cleaned and bandaged his wounds. Connor had used the opportunity to ask about Murphy; desperate for any news on how his brother was holding up. Dr. Schneider told him of his offer to speak with the warden about protective custody, and that Murphy had refused. Connor understood his brother's decision, hell he probably would have made the same choice, however, that didn't stop him from cursing Murphy's unbending stubborn streak.

Once Connor's wounds had been dressed, the guards escorted him back to his cell. Before they closed the door on him they warned him if he couldn't control himself he would be spending the rest of his isolation in a padded room up in the Psych wing.  
>Connor fidgeted with the gauze a little longer before unwrapping it completely and discarding the soiled bandage in the corner of his cell. He was just about to retrieve his sock ball and resume his game when the muffled sounds of a scuffle and angry shouting drifted to him through the steel door of his cell. Jumping up from the bed, Connor flew across the room and peered through the small glass window set high in the door. He watched as two guards forced two struggling and cursing inmates down the hall. As they drew closer he realized that he recognized the prisoners from D block.<p>

Connor thought his heart was going to stop. What had happened? Did this have anything to do with Murphy? When the group passed in front of Connor's cell he could see what looked like blood smeared across the front of the first inmates shirt. Panic gripped him and he began banging on his cell door.

"Hey! What happened? What the fuck did you do?" he yelled out to the men in the hall.

The second inmate to be forced past Connor's cell looked up at the sound of his voice. When the convict saw who it was on the other side of the door he flashed him a malevolent grin and laughed, allowing Connor's imagination to run wild with possibilities.

"What the fuck did you do!?" He demanded again, pounding harder on his door in frustration. When no one responded he took to beating the steel barrier with both fists as hard as he could until the wounds on his right hand had reopened and began bleeding freely once more.

After several minutes of unrestrained rage, a guard appeared in the window of Connor's cell and smacked the glass with an open palm. "You only get one warning MacManus! Get yourself under control, now!"

Connor relented and backed away from the door. His chest was heaving and he gripped his hair with both fists as he tried to calm himself down. The guard, satisfied that the prisoner was backing down, disappeared out of sight. Connor returned to his seat on the edge of his bed and bent over, putting his head between his knees with his hands laced behind his neck. He was going to kill them. If they took his brother from him, he was going to kill them all.

/ / /

"Well Murphy, I wish I could say it's nice to see you again but…" Dr. Schneider paused as he removed the handkerchief that officer Edwards had been using to staunch the bleeding, "there is nothing nice about this." After a quick examination of Murphy's shoulder, the doctor looked back up and laid a serious gaze on his patient. "You know, this really isn't how I wanted to start my day."

Murphy was gritting his teeth against the pain but he managed a light chuckle. "Sorry Doc, I'll try saying 'please' next time I'm askin' someone not to stab me. Maybe see if they can come back another time, yeah?"

Murphy's comment was dripping with sarcasm and Dr. Schneider narrowed his eyes, trying hard to deny the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. With a shake of his head he gave in and allowed the grin to form in full. Giving Murphy a pat on his good shoulder he stepped away and began pulling a variety of items from different locations around the infirmary. After retrieving the necessary supplies he returned to the bed where Murphy was sitting. Discarding the items onto a table, Dr. Schneider pulled a chair up and got to work cleaning out the stab wound.

"Your brother was in here a few days ago," the doctor said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Murphy's face registered confusion. "What the fuck was he in here for? The clumsy fool manage to hurt himself in solitary confinement?" he asked with a hint of humor.

"It was no accident," Dr. Schneider glanced up at Murphy before refocusing on his task. "He knew full well what would come from using his cell door as a punching bag. He is lucky he didn't break his hand."

Murphy shook his head and looked down at the bed sheets beneath him. "Dumbass," he whispered under his breath. He knew why Connor had done what he did. His brother was worried, frustrated, and angry, and he unleashed those emotions on the closest thing standing in his way. It was stupid, but Murphy understood. "Other than a busted hand, how did he look?" he raised his eyes to meet Dr. Schneider's.

"Tired," the doctor stated simply. It was quiet for a few minutes before he continued speaking. "I can't, in good conscience, send you back out there alone, Murphy. Not after this. This injury was only a few inches away from being fatal. You don't realize how lucky you are to still be alive."

Murphy started shaking his head and interrupted the man. "We've already had this discussion Doc, and my decision still stands. I wont back down to them."

"You don't have a choice. I heard from the guards that Connor and Romeo are being released from solitary in two days. I am keeping you in here for the remainder of that time," he said firmly.

Murphy opened his mouth to protest, but Dr. Schneider held up a hand and cut him off. "I am the doctor, you are my patient, and this is my infirmary. Nobody leaves here until I give the okay, and I don't like the look of this wound. I need you close by so I can monitor it for signs of infection."

Murphy stared hard at the other man but Dr. Schneider didn't back down this time. The silent battle of wills lasted a few more moments before Murphy relented with a small grin. "Fine then, have it your way. I Suppose I can't argue with doctor's orders, now can I?"

"Good," Dr. Schneider said with a satisfied nod. "Now lets get this shoulder bandaged. The wound is jagged and torn so it may require stitches later on, but it is also very deep and suturing it up now will only increase your risk of infection. So, for now, we will bandage it and I will get you started on some IV antibiotics."

Murphy nodded and the doctor gathered up the trash and bloody rags, discarding them in the trash. Turning back to the table next to him, he rummaged through his supplies until he found a sterile bandage and fresh gauze. With hands that suggested years of experience, Dr. Schneider quickly bandaged the wound and inserted a needle into Murphy's arm, setting him up with an IV.

"All set. I suggest you use the time you have here to rest and recover your strength. I have a stack of books from the library in my office if you need something to pass the time."

Murphy relaxed back against the bed. "Thanks Doc. I think I'll just close my eyes for a bit."

Standing to leave, Dr. Schneider gave him a pat on the leg. "Let me know if you need anything."

Murphy nodded in thanks and closed his eyes; allowing all the tension from the last week to melt away as he drifted into a light sleep.

/ / /

Connor bolted upright in his bed when the sound of his door being unlocked broke the silence in his small solitary cell. The door creaked loudly on its hinges as it was pulled open, and Connor jumped to his feet.

"Turn around, hands behind your back," the guard standing at the open door ordered.

Connor did as he was told and flinched when he felt the cold metal of the handcuffs tighten down on his sore wrists. "What's goin' on?"

"You are being released back into gen. pop," the guard responded, pulling his prisoner around and pushing him out of the cell.

Connor felt his stomach do a flip. Two days had passed since the prisoners from D block were brought into solitary, and he had yet to receive any news on Murphy. He had no way of knowing if his brother was injured, dead, or even involved in the incident at all. As awful as not knowing was, Connor was more afraid of the answers he would receive when he returned to the cellblock. Pushing his fear aside, he walked with determined steps as fast as the guard would allow him to go. Whatever situation he found himself faced with, he would deal with it.

Up ahead in the narrow passage, Connor could see another inmate being pulled from their cell and he instantly recognized the prisoner as Romeo. The guard was being particularly rough with his friend and Connor smiled to himself when he heard Romeo cursing at the man in Spanish.

"Rome, no creo que eso ayuda / I don't think that is helping/" he called out to the man in front of him.

Romeo struggled to turn back and catch a glimpse of who was behind him. "Connor! Am I glad to see you! How ya doin' man?"

"Hangin' in there Rome, and yourself?"

"I was just trying to enjoy a little nap, when Señor Sol here, took rude awakening to a whole new level."

Connor chuckled at his friend but didn't bother responding as his anxieties settled back down on him. The walk to D block from the solitary building wasn't exactly a short one, and he used the time to prepare himself for what he would find when they arrived.

The other prisoners had already enjoyed their morning free time and, when Connor and Romeo were brought into the cellblock, everyone was locked away in their cells. The two returning inmates were escorted to their assigned cells and the doors were opened. Connors heart dropped and all of his fears from the past week came crashing down on him when he saw that the small chamber was empty. Murphy was gone.

/ / /

Murphy walked, prison guard in tow, thru the hallways of the main building from the infirmary back to D block. Dr. Schneider had released him from his care that morning, upon receiving the news that Connor had been taken out of isolation. Although it was still painful, Murphy's wound had begun healing nicely over the last two days with no sign of infection. He was going to have to go back regularly for check-ups, but he was well enough to leave the infirmary.

Murphy knew something was wrong and could hear the shouting before they even reached the D block door. When they arrived, the guard in the control room opened the gate and allowed them access into the cellblock. Murphy's jaw dropped in shock at the scene that greeted him once they were inside. Connor was standing in the center of the cellblock, arms still handcuffed behind him, struggling against the hands of two guards. His brother was shouting a variety of curses and threats that appeared to be directed at the other inmates in the cells. Murphy wasn't sure what had happened to cause his brother's violent reaction, but he knew he needed to attempt to calm him down before he got himself thrown back in solitary.

"Connor!" Murphy tried to call out to him but his brother's outburst had whipped the other prisoners into a frenzy and the noise was deafening. Murphy made a move to go to him but the officer who had been escorting him held him back. "Connor!"

The two guards who had been trying to gain control of the unruly prisoner had had enough. Sweeping Connor's feet out from under him, they brought him to his knees and when he continued to fight they forced him onto his stomach with a knee in the small of his back.

Murphy watched his brother get taken down and wrenched his arms free from the guard behind him, making a dash for Connor's position. Gaining his side, he dropped to his knees and made another attempt at speaking.

"Connor! What the fuck are ya doin'? Ya gotta calm down!"

At the sound of Murphy's voice, Connor stopped struggling and his head snapped up to meet his brother's eyes. "Murph?" he asked, his eyes registering relief. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Murph, I thought ya were gone. You weren't here, are ya alright?"

Murphy's guard caught back up to him and, before he could answer Connor's questions, he was yanked back to his feet and pulled away. "Wait!" Murphy pleaded. He looked up at the guard that was kneeling on his brother's back and cringed inwardly when he saw it was Officer Jones. "Please sir, just let him up. He won't cause anymore problems."

"Let him up? I should be hauling his ass back down to solitary!" Jones replied angrily.

Murphy nodded and played it cool in an attempt to diffuse the guard's anger. "Yes, you should. He's an asshole and I have no good reason why you should let this slide. However, I promise you, if you let him up and allow us to go back to our cell, there will be no more trouble." Murphy saw Jones's indecision and held his breath. He just got his brother back; he didn't want him sent away again.

Officer Jones hesitated for a few moments before nodding and removing his knee from Connor's back. "Get these inmates back to their cell," he barked the order to the two guards standing by.

Murphy breathed a sigh of relief and allowed the officer behind him to push him towards his cell, while the other guard picked Connor up off the ground. Officer Jones removed his baton from his belt and slammed it against one of the steel tables nearby. The sound reverberated through the cellblock effectively silencing the rest of the prisoners who were still creating a disturbance. "D block will stay on lockdown for the remainder of the day! If I hear one more outburst from any of you, I will make sure you don't see the sun for a month!" With that said, he headed toward the exit without looking back.

As Murphy was being led back to his cell he glanced at Romeo, who had already been locked up across the way. His friend wore a shocked expression and Murphy gave him a reassuring nod. Romeo had already been locked in his cell by the time Connor had erupted into his fit of rage, and all he could do was watch helplessly. He was relieved when Murphy arrived on the scene and was able to get control of the situation. Romeo had never seen Connor lose control of his emotions in such a way and it had frightened him. Sure, both brothers possessed a certain fierceness, especially when it came to protecting family or friends, but in the short time he had known them he had never witnessed anything of that magnitude.

Once the brothers were both returned to their cell and the handcuffs removed, Connor took up his place on the top bunk and Murphy leaned against the wall, staring at his brother. He didn't ask for an explanation, he just stood there and stared. He knew Connor would talk when he was ready.

"I sat in that fuckin' isolation cell for over a week. It was torture not knowing if you were okay or if you had been hurt." Connor looked over and met his brother's eyes. "Not knowing if you had even survived the day." He paused briefly, redirecting his eyes back up at the ceiling, and Murphy waited him out patiently. "Two days ago, I watched as a couple of D block inmates were drug through solitary. Both men looked as if they had been in a tussle and one of them had blood smeared across his shirt. I knew it was from you. It didn't matter how many times I tried to convince myself otherwise. I knew it was you." Connor sat back up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, turning to face Murphy. "When I got back to the cellblock today and you weren't here…I don't know…I just… fuckin' lost it, Murph. I thought ya were gone."

Murphy nodded in understanding. "Those two men that ya saw, they jumped me in the fuckin' cell while the guards were distracted." Murphy pointed to the bruises on his face, "worked me over a bit before pullin' a shank." Drawing back the shoulder of his shirt, Murphy exposed the bandage underneath. "The bastard was aimin' for the heart but he didn't quite make it."

Connor felt his anger renewed at the sight of his brothers injury but let it go for now. They would pay soon enough. Murphy continued speaking and he looked up to meet his brother's gaze.

"Dr. Schneider kept me in the infirmary until you were released. He says the wound is healing well and, barring any further complications, there shouldn't be any lasting damage."

"You're alright." Connor felt like he had been holding his breath for the last week and when he said those two words he was finally able to breathe again.

Murphy pushed off the wall and gave his brothers leg a pat before settling in on the bottom bunk. "Aye, we're alright."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I just want to take a moment to give a big thank you to those of you who have been reading and reviewing! I greatly appreciate the feedback, it really motivates me to continue writing and working on this story. So THANK YOU! I hope you guys continue to enjoy.**_

Chapter 4

"Connor, ya awake?" Murphy whispered into the darkness of the cell. With D block on lock down for the rest of that day, the brother's had spent a lot of time sleeping and thinking. After their initial reunion, the boys passed the day in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Both had a lot on their mind but neither was ready to share and the quiet had stretched comfortably between them. It wasn't until Murphy was laying in the dark, unable to sleep, that he felt the need to share his thoughts with his brother.

Connor was lying on his side staring into the darkness when Murphy's voice drifted up to him. "Aye," he responded quietly. He had been able to sense his brother's restless state of mind for the last several hours and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Murphy was ready to talk.

It was quiet for a few moments as Murphy worked through what he wanted to say and Connor waited him out. "Why do ya think we're here?" Murphy finally asked, breaking the silence.

"What do ya mean?" Connor knew his brother wasn't looking for the obvious answer as to why they were in prison. There was more behind the question and he wasn't sure how to answer.

"I mean… do ya think we are here for a reason? Do you believe this is part of some plan?"

Connor sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I did. However, the longer we are here, the more I think we need to get the fuck out. I'm really not sure how we would manage that though."

It was quiet again for a few moments until Murphy spoke. "Uncle Sibeal visited while you were in solitary."

"Really?" Connor sat up and jumped lightly from his spot on the top bunk. "What did he say?" he asked as he took a seat on the bottom bed next to his brother.

Murphy pushed himself up, making room for Connor to sit. "He said that we have the support of the church, and that they've hired us a lawyer."

"I can't imagine a lawyer is going to do us any good at this juncture. From a legal standpoint I do believe we are fucked, Murph," Connor shook his head.

Murphy shrugged his shoulders and looked up at his twin. "I don't know, but Father Sibeal said this guy has a plan. We are supposed to be meetin' with him soon."

Connor nodded and looked thoughtful. "Did he say anythin' else?"

"Aye, he said he has been in contact with an old friend of ours and, together, they are workin' on a backup plan, incase things don't work out with the lawyer. Whatever the fuck that means." Murphy spoke around his thumbnail, which he was busy chewing on, attesting to his troubled state.

Connor looked about as confused as Murphy had felt when their uncle had first told him the news. "Friend? Who the fuck could he be talkin' about?"

"That's the question isn't it," Murphy said with a sigh, dropping his hand into his lap and leaning his head back to rest against the wall. "Dolly or Duffy maybe? But they're homicide detectives; I'm not sure what they could do for us. Besides, I doubt they would get involved again after what happened to Greenly." When Connor didn't say anything Murphy continued. "I agree with you. I think we need to get the fuck out of this place, but part of me doesn't feel right leaving while some of these assholes are still breathing."

"We may not have a choice, Murph. It may have to be enough that they are locked away from the general public." Connor moved his hand to rest on his brother's leg. "We can't get them all, and I would rather worry about the ones who still pose a threat."

"I know." Murphy nodded his agreement and resumed chewing his thumbnail. "So, what do we do then?"

Connor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "All we can do is wait and play it by ear. Let us just see what this lawyer has to say before we start makin' any plans, yeah?"

"Aye. Although, I'm afraid your little outburst earlier today isn't going to make things any easier for us. Ya really got the other inmates worked up and pissed off. They'll be gunnin' for us even harder now." Murphy felt compelled to point out the increased threat.

"Fuck them, we can handle it."

Murphy had to resist the urge to laugh. "Aye, the same way ya handled Geno and got yourself locked up in solitary? A lot of good that did us, hmmm?"

"Shut it, I did what needed to be done." Connor gave his brother a light shove. "Besides, somebody had to take care of ya, what with you lyin' on the ground unconscious and all."

Murphy shoved his brother back. "Oh, fuck you. I could have taken him if the bastard hadn't come up behind me like a fuckin' coward."

Connor chuckled and ruffled Murphy's hair. "Sure, whatever ya say Murph."

"Go fuck yourself, Connor," Murphy growled, swatting his brother's hand away.

Connor just laughed and jumped back up on the top bunk. Murphy lay back down and silence filled the cell once more. Just as he was drifting off to sleep the sound of Connor's voice broke the stillness.

"G' night Murph."

"Night Connor."

/ / /

The next morning, a buzzer sounded through D block signaling the start of the day. A chorus of groans could be heard through out the cellblock, protesting the seven A.M. wake up call. Connor rubbed his eyes and fought off the sleep that was trying to pull him back under. Jumping down from the top bunk, he looked in on Murphy who was covering his head with his pillow trying to block out the offensive noise and bright lights.

"C'mon Murph, time to wake up," Connor said as he kicked his brother's bed and yanked his covers away.

Murphy mumbled something unintelligible and tossed his pillow aside. Reluctantly, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I need a fuckin' cigarette," he muttered, scrubbing his face with his hands trying to wake himself up.

"You and me both." Connor gave his brother a pat on the back. "Unfortunately, we have to settle for powdered eggs and burnt toast."

The door to their cell slid open and the brother's stepped cautiously out into the cellblock. As they exited their cell the other inmates grew quiet and turned to glare at them. The hostility in the air was palpable and Murphy looked over at his brother. "Told ya they were pissed off," he whispered.

The guards, who were ordering the prisoners to line up, disrupted the tension, and once they were no longer the focus of attention, Connor turned to Murphy. "We just need to stay vigilant and keep our guard up. We'll be fine," he said, redirecting his attention to Romeo who was just now joining them.

The other man glanced around at the inmates before turning back to the brothers. "Why do I get the feeling that we're on the breakfast menu this morning?"

"We'll be fine!" Connor repeated himself more forcefully, as if trying to make himself believe it. Murphy just nodded and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, directing him and Romeo to the end of the line.

Things in the cafeteria were just as tense, and an animosity hung in the air so thick they felt as if they were choking on it. The guards had picked up on the change in energy and they attentively patrolled the mess hall, ready for anything.

After collecting their breakfast, the trio walked slowly and warily to a table in the back. Connor and Romeo sat on one side of the long table and Murphy sat directly across from them, leaving nobody's back unprotected. The three men sat and ate their breakfast in silence until Connor kicked Murphy under the table and nodded his head, indicating something behind his brother.

"That fella over there hasn't stopped starin' at ya since we sat down. He a friend of yours Murph?"

Murphy turned and glanced casually behind him. There, sitting at a table in the middle of the cafeteria, was Tattoo Neck. The man was gazing at him with an unreadable expression and when he saw Murphy turn to look at him he narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Murphy offered up a scowl of his own before turning back to his brother and Romeo.

"We may have had a bit of a disagreement last week while you two were locked up."

Romeo leaned to the side, glancing around Murphy, trying to see who the brothers were looking at. "That's George Maddox. He's a bad motherfucker, man. In here on six counts of murder, along with multiple sexual assault and battery charges."

Connor looked over at his friend with an eyebrow raised. "How the fuck do ya know that?"

"My cellmate. He is harmless enough. In here for grand theft or some shit like that, but he has been in here so long I swear he knows every con in this place. From what I hear, this Maddox asshole is not somebody you want to mess with."

"Yeah well, fuck him!" Murphy said angrily. "I'm positive that those two fuckers who jumped me in the cellblock the other day, were his guys. If I ever get the fuckin' chance, he is the first motherfucker I'm comin' for."

Connor didn't bother trying to calm Murphy's anger. He actually agreed whole-heartedly with the idea. Looking back over at the man who was still eyeballing his brother, Connor felt his own ire begin to rise. "We'll have to keep a close eye on him. He tried to get at ya once, you can bet he'll do it again."

Murphy gave a short humorless laugh. "I'd like to see him fuckin' try that shit again."

Connor shook his head at his brother. "Don't get cocky now Murph, it will only invite trouble. We just need to keep our fuckin' heads down." He looked seriously at Murphy and then at Romeo. When neither said anything Connor picked up his fork and continued eating his breakfast.

After the meal the guards brought the prisoners back to D block for their morning free time. Connor and Murphy had just entered their cell with Romeo when Officer Edwards appeared in the doorway with another guard.

"You two need to come with us, your lawyer is requesting a meeting with you."

Connor and Murphy looked at each other with hopeful expressions and moved toward the door. Hesitating, Murphy turned back toward Romeo. "What about him?" he asked, looking back at the guard.

Edwards shrugged and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I was only told to bring you and your brother."

Connor and Murphy glanced at each other again, unsure what to do. They didn't feel right leaving their friend here alone, especially with tensions so high among the inmates.

Romeo noticed the brothers' concern and shooed them away. "Get out of here, I can handle myself."

Murphy patted the man on the shoulder. "We'll be back," he said before allowing the guards to cuff him and lead him and Connor from the cellblock.

The two guards guided their prisoners through the main building until they reached a small room just down the hall from the visitation area. Officer Edwards pulled a ring of keys off his belt and unlocked the door, allowing the brothers access. Seated at the table in the center of the room was a man in his late forties, who had dark, slowly graying hair, glasses, and wore a serious expression.

Once inside, the guards removed their handcuffs and stepped back out into the hall. "We will be right outside when you are done," Edwards said before closing the door.

When the brothers entered, the lawyer stood to his feet and waited for the restraints to be removed before offering his hand. "It's nice to meet you Murphy, Connor," he said, shaking their hands and addressing them individually. "My name is Joseph Hunt. I've been hired by your uncle to represent you boys in court."

Connor and Murphy nodded and returned the greeting before taking a seat across the table from Mr. Hunt. The lawyer shuffled through his briefcase, which sat open on the table in front of him, before looking back up at his clients. "Let's get started, shall we? Now, when you were arrested you were denied bail. My first order of business is to remedy that situation." He looked pointedly at the bruises that were still healing on Murphy's face. "I have a feeling you will agree with me when I say, getting you out of this place should be our first priority."

Connor and Murphy shared a glance before nodding their agreement. When the brothers approved Mr. Hunt continued.

"Good. So, as of now, the prosecution is working off the idea that you boys are, in fact, these vigilante Saints that you are accused of being. However, the evidence isn't as solid as they would have you believe. There is only one crime scene in which they can, without a doubt, connect you to, and that is the one where you were arrested. They have the courtroom scene where Joe Yakavetta was executed eight years ago, but by some miracle they have been unable to track down any witnesses who are willing to come forth and give a positive I.D. on you boys."

Connor held his hand up, interrupting the man. "What about the Yakavetta family members who were attending the trial? Surely they would be more than willin' to step up if it meant keepin' us locked in here."

Mr. Hunt shook his head. "Indeed they would… if they could be found. Many of the Yakavetta family members scattered after Papa Joe's murder. While some stayed in Boston to continue his work, most fled to various parts of the country or back home to Italy. The only remaining available witness on the Yakavetta side was Papa Joe's son, Concezio Yakavetta. Fortunately for us, a recent attack on the Italian mafia has taken care of that problem." He stared seriously at the brothers when he made mention of the Saints handiwork.

Connor and Murphy glanced sidelong at each other but didn't react otherwise when Mr. Hunt brought up the Murder of Concezio. After a few moments of silence Connor ventured a question. "So, what about the crime scene where we were taken into custody? What do they have on us there?"

Mr. Hunt sighed and leaned back in his chair. "That could pose a little more of a problem, but I may be able to make a case of self defense. I can try to spin it so it looks like you boys went to this location in search of your father, and upon arrival you discovered it was a trap. Armed men were waiting for you on the inside and once you entered the building, The Roman had his men outside surround the place. It is kind of a stretch and may be difficult to sell but I am afraid it is our only option. However, we don't have to work out all those details just yet. Your trial isn't for another six months, at least. For now, my main focus is convincing the judge to set bail."

Murphy was a bit skeptical of the lawyers plan but he supposed it was their best shot. There was only one more issue that was bothering him. "What about Romeo? Even if the Judge does agree to bail, we won't be going anywhere without him."

Connor nodded his agreement. "Aye, he is here because of us and we won't abandon him."

Mr. hunt nodded in understanding. "I will be negotiating bail agreements for all three of you. However, the prosecution is uncertain of the extent to which your friend was involved and his charges differ from yours. Therefore, he will be standing trial alone."

Connor and Murphy began protesting but Hunt cut them off. "I will be providing my services to Romeo and I promise to do everything I can for him. Honestly, from a legal perspective, he is in a much better position than you boys."

Satisfied that their friend wouldn't be left to fend for himself, the brothers relaxed back into their chairs and allowed the lawyer to continue.

"Your bail hearing is set for nine A.M. tomorrow morning. I will be speaking on your behalf so there will be no need for you to make an appearance." After rummaging through his briefcase for a moment Mr. Hunt selected a business card and handed it over to Connor. "Give me a call tomorrow afternoon. I will let you know how it went and we will go from there." Snapping his briefcase shut, he stood to his feet and shook the brother's hands in parting.

"Thank you sir, for everythin'," Connor said, rising from his chair as Mr. Hunt walked around the table towards the door.

The lawyer nodded and gave a thin smile. "You boys just hang in there and hopefully tomorrow I will have some good news."

After Mr. Hunt left, Connor and Murphy exchanged looks as the guards filed back in to replace their handcuffs and return them to D block. The other inmates were still enjoying their free time and when Connor and Murphy were released into their midst most of them stopped what they were doing and glared at them. The brothers were used to this reaction by now and did their best to ignore it as they made their way back to their cell. Halfway through the block, Murphy felt a presence behind his right shoulder and quickly spun to face the perceived threat. He wasn't surprised when he was met with George Maddox's smirking face.

"Did you boys have a nice chat with your lawyer?" the larger man asked in a mockingly friendly voice.

Connor stopped walking when he saw his brother turn around and he stepped back up to Murphy's side. Neither brother responded to the other inmate, they just stood and stared, ready for anything.

"I bet he has big plans to get you two fucks out of here doesn't he?" Maddox continued, his face flashing anger briefly before shrugging his shoulders and allowing a taunting smile to take it's place. "It doesn't matter what he has planned, you Saint assholes won't ever leave this place alive." He took a step closer to the brothers but they stood their ground. "There isn't an inmate in this joint that doesn't want to put you in a body bag. You live your life thinking you are better than all of us, but you fail to realize you ARE one of us. Murderers."

Murphy clinched his jaw and curled his fists at his side, but Connor's hand on his shoulder kept him from reacting.

Maddox leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice dangerously. "I will burn this place to the ground before I let you walk out of here with your lives." Turning his focus to Murphy he shook is head in pity. "It's a shame. You should have taken my offer, Saint. It's not too late. I'll give you one more chance to be mine. Just follow me into my cell and we can seal the deal."

It was Murphy's turn to hold Connor back as his brother attempted to lunge at the other prisoner. Connor wasn't sure what deal Maddox was referring to, but he didn't like what the man was insinuating and wanted nothing more than to beat his face into the ground.

Maddox laughed at Connor's display of anger and raised his hands in surrender. "Easy there, I didn't mean to make you feel left out. You are more than welcome to come and join us, the more the merrier." He laughed at himself as if he were incredibly clever.

Connor looked like he wanted to take the man's head off and Murphy was tempted to let him, but the guards took note of the escalating situation and ordered them to back off. Maddox continued to smile at the brothers as he walked backwards towards his cell, and Murphy pulled Connor away with him.

Romeo was still waiting for them back in their cell and when he heard the commotion he stuck his head out. "What the hell was that about?" he asked once the brothers had reached the cell.

"Nothin," Connor responded, the anger still evident in his voice. He and Murphy pushed past their friend and entered the small chamber, both taking a seat on the bottom bunk.

"What did the lawyer say?" Romeo asked, turning to the brothers.

Connor ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and began relaying everything that Mr. Hunt had told them. When he was done Romeo nodded his head enthusiastically. "Well, why the fuckin' long faces? That doesn't sound so hopeless. We just have to survive in here long enough to see it through."

Murphy stood to his feet and walked to the door, glancing around the cellblock before turning to his friend. "Yeah well," he placed a hand on Romeo's shoulder, "that is becoming increasingly more difficult. These assholes won't be content to wait much longer. The tension is building and they want their fuckin' blood. This place is like a fuckin' powder keg ready to blow.

Connor stood, joining Romeo and his brother at the door. "Then let us hope we receive some good news tomorrow," he said quietly as he stared out at the sea of hostile inmates.

/ / /

The rest of the day passed by business as usual. However, the enmity between the Saints and the convicts continued to grow and dirty looks, threats and curses were continuously thrown their way. Neither Connor nor Murphy slept very well that night and when the alarm sounded the next morning they were both mentally drained. Dragging themselves out of their beds, they followed the rest of the inmates to the cafeteria for breakfast.

"You guys look like shit," Romeo stated bluntly once they were all three seated at a table.

"Thanks Rome," Connor rolled his eyes, "just a bit stressed is all. Can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep."

Romeo snorted in disgust. "Yeah? Well, at least your cellmate doesn't snore so loud it vibrates the fuckin' bed, man."

Connor's reply was cut short when Murphy's elbow bumped his ribs. Redirecting his attention, he saw his brother was focused on something across the room.

"Look who's back," Murphy said around a mouthful of food, indicating the direction with a nod of his head.

Connor directed his gaze across the cafeteria and swore under his breath when he saw what had caught his brother's attention. A guard had just walked in escorting Geno Pisani who must have finally been released from solitary confinement. The man was still healing from the beating Connor had given him and yellow bruises covered his face.

"Well that's just what we fuckin need, isn't it? Although," Connor paused and smiled to himself, giving Murphy a quick bump with his elbow, "I will say… he's lookin' a bit rough, isn't he Murph?"

Murphy glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "Aye, you're real fuckin' proud of yourself aren't ya?"

Connor laughed and nodded. "Of course I fuckin' am, look at the poor bastard."

"I'm looking at him and he looks pretty fucking pissed to me," Romeo said, turning back around to face the brothers.

Connor and Murphy watched as Geno collected his breakfast tray and made his way toward a table where the members of his group were awaiting his return. When the convict walked past George Maddox's table, Tattoo Neck snagged the other man's shirt and motioned for him to take a seat. Geno seemed to hesitate for a moment before relenting and accepting the empty chair that had been pushed towards him. The two convicts began what looked like an intense conversation and after a few moments both men glanced over their shoulders in the brother's direction before turning and continuing their discussion. Connor and Murphy looked at each other. They knew this boded ill for them.

/ / /

The rest of the morning ticked by slowly and the brothers waited anxiously for an opportunity to make the call to their lawyer. During the three hours of cell time before dinner, Murphy was summoned to the infirmary to have his shoulder injury re-dressed and Connor utilized his weekly phone call to contact Mr. Hunt.

After his wound had been treated and Dr. Schneider was satisfied with the healing progress, Murphy was taken back to D block. Back in the cell he found Connor sitting on the floor against the back wall, his head bowed in defeat. "What happened?" he asked hesitantly.

Connor looked up from where he was sitting and gave his head a shake. "The judge denied bail."

Murphy simply nodded and sat down on his bed. He really hadn't expected it to go any other way, but he had hoped. "Then I guess we will just have to keep on survivin'."

Connor sighed and gave his twin's knee a pat. "Aye, that we will."

The brothers sat there together in silence until the doors in the cellblock opened, indicating dinnertime. The moment that Connor, Murphy and Romeo stepped foot in the cafeteria they could feel the change. There was an energy in the air that made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end and their stomach tie in knots. Nothing was visibly out of the ordinary, however, their instincts seemed to sense that something was amiss and it set them on edge.

Once the trio reached their table, Connor broke the news to Romeo about their bail request being denied. The man looked a little disappointed but shook it off quickly. "So, what's our next move?" he asked, trying to remain positive.

Connor looked at his friend and shook his head at a loss. "We have no more moves Rome. Our only move is to stay alive and put our faith in our friends on the outside."

"Well, that sounds re-"

"Connor!" Romeo's response was cut off when Murphy whispered his brother's name in alarm.

The apprehension in Murphy's voice caused Connor to look up quickly and what he saw made his blood run cold. A silence had fallen over the cafeteria and every set of eyes was turned in their direction. "What the fuck is happening?" Connor questioned quietly, his uneasiness evident in his voice.

Before Murphy had a chance to reply, the prisoners set down their eating utensils and they all stood to their feet in unison. The guards responded instantly and began shouting at the convicts to stand down and take their seats, but their orders went unheeded. Connor, Murphy and Romeo very slowly gained their feet, afraid that any sudden movement might set off an attack response. In the face of over forty inmates, they waited, for waiting was the only thing they could do.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N : _I apologize for the short chapter, but it was either post this now, or wait another week and post an extra long chapter. I opted for the short chapter but I promise next post will be longer. Hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think!_**

Chapter 5

For what felt like an eternity, no one moved. The guards continued to shout at the inmates and when the prisoners failed to comply, they began threatening them with their batons and pepper spray. Still no one budged. One of the officers, who had bolted at the first sign of trouble, came back in carrying an armload of rifles loaded with non-lethal rounds and began passing the guns off to the other guards.

Taking aim at the inmates standing at the head of the group the officers shouted their command one more time, "Stand down and return to your seats!" When no one responded the guards discharged their weapons, bringing a handful of prisoners to the ground.

The gunfire resonating through the cafeteria was like the breaking of a dam. The inmates scattered. Half of them charged the guards, and the other half ran straight for Connor, Murphy and Romeo.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ!" Connor's heart leapt into his throat as he grabbed his brother and Romeo by the back of their shirts, yanking them toward to nearest door. Fortunately for them, they had enough sense to choose a table along the perimeter of the mess hall so there was no one standing in between them and the back exit.

Throwing the door open, Connor pushed Murphy and Romeo through before slamming it shut in the face of their pursuers. Together they took off at a dead run, pelting down the quiet halls of the prison with the mob of inmates hot on their heels. Rounding a corner, the trio found themselves faced with four, fully armed guards, sporting complete riot gear, and were forced to skid to a halt.

"Hands in the air!"

"Down on the ground!" the officers all began shouting at once.

Connor, Murphy and Romeo raised their arms in surrender but glanced nervously behind them. They never had the opportunity to warn the guards of what was coming before the angry horde of prisoners spilled around the corner. The prison guards seemed shocked by the sheer number of inmates charging toward them, but wasted no time in addressing the new threat.

The officer closest to Romeo grabbed the Mexican and pulled him behind the line of guards. "Get behind us!" he yelled, directing the brothers to do the same.

Adjusting their aim, the officers trained their weapons on the men at the head of the mob and shouted a warning. When the convicts continued their headlong rush they opened fire without a moments hesitation.

The spray of blood told Connor that these guards were using lethal rounds. However, they were severely outnumbered and their attempt to put down the resistance was to no effect. The inmates leading the charge dropped to the ground clutching their injuries, but it didn't slow the rest of the convicts who, with a shout akin to a war cry, plowed into the line of guards, knocking the men to the ground.

Connor watched as the prison guards were taken down and began pulling Murphy and Romeo backwards down the hall. "We need to move." He spoke quietly to his brother. The throng of inmates quickly stripped the officers of their riot gear and relieved them of their weapons before refocusing on their original prey. "Now, Murph! GO!" Connor shouted when Murphy failed to react quickly enough. Pushing his brother and Romeo down the hall in front of him, the trio continued flee.

Murphy wasn't really sure where they were going as he led them blindly through the narrow halls. The shouting of the prisoners behind them was growing quieter as they outdistanced their pursuers and attempted to lose them through the many twists and turns of the main building. It was eerily quiet in the dark passages and the silence left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Murphy's stomach. Where were all the guards? What the _fuck_ was going on?

After rounding the next bend, Murphy came to a stop and raised his hand, requesting silence. Holding his breath, he listened for a few moments before nodding and leaning back against the wall behind him. "I think we lost 'em," he panted, resting one hand on his knee and clutching his injured shoulder with the other, wincing at the pain brought on by their flight.

Connor noticed Murphy's pinched expression and moved to rest a hand on his brother's back. Looking up into his twin's concerned eyes, Murphy gave a little nod. He was fine.

Both brothers glanced up as Romeo spoke, "So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?" he whispered, peering cautiously around the corner they were hiding behind.

Pushing away from the wall, Murphy straightened and met his brother's eyes. Connor was always the one with the plan, but this time Murphy had ideas of his own. "This is our chance, Connor," he spoke quietly but his tone was fierce. "I'm tired of being the prey. It is time for us to hunt these mother fuckers down and end their miserable existence."

Connor was shaking his head before Murphy had even finished speaking. "You're gettin' ahead of yourself, Murph. We don't have a clue what the fuck is goin' on here. We are severely outnumbered and, more importantly, unarmed." Connor saw the familiar flash of defiance in Murphy's eyes and he laid a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, giving him a little shake. "Listen to me Murph, I need ya with me on this. My main concern at the moment is getting' us through this alive. I promise ya, sendin' these assholes to their judgment is very high on my list of priorities, but we need to proceed with caution. I'm just askin' for a little patience is all."

Murphy stared hard at his brother before relenting with a nod. He would do whatever Connor asked, no matter how much he despised it at the time. He trusted his brother implicitly and had always relied on him as a voice of reason. "What do you suggest we do then?"

Connor sighed and stepped back, looking over at Romeo who had been keeping watch while the brothers worked out their differences. "We need to figure out the extent of the situation here. It's too fuckin' quiet, this place should be crawling with guards." He looked up and down the silent hall before nodding in the direction they had been previously headed. "Let's move on carefully, maybe we can find somethin' to defend ourselves with or, at the very least, someone that isn't out for our fuckin' blood and can tell us what the hell is goin' on."

Romeo slapped a hand on Connor's shoulder, "We're following you, brother."

Connor nodded gratefully and turned back to his twin who had remained quiet. "Murph?"

Murphy looked up to meet his brother's gaze and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Well, lets fuckin' do it then," he grinned and stepped aside, gesturing for Connor to take the lead.

"Alright then," Connor said as he started back down the narrow passage. "If I remember right, the guards quarters and armory are somewhere in this vicinity. We should probably-" Connor had been looking back at his brother and friend as he walked and was unprepared when the butt of a rifle snaked around the next corner, smashing into the side of his head.

Romeo yelled out in surprise and Murphy lunged forward when he saw his brother crumple to the ground and lay motionless. Kneeling down by Connor's side, Murphy put a hand to the bleeding wound on his twin's head and looked up just as a group of five guards stepped around the bend, blocking their path.

"Well, look who we have here boys!" one of them announced in a mocking tone.

The man who spoke lifted the visor of his riot helmet and Murphy's face turned into a mask of rage when he found himself looking into the eyes of George Maddox. These men weren't guards but rather inmates who had liberated some unfortunate officers of their equipment.

"Son of a bitch!" Murphy growled as he launched himself at the man sneering down at him. Quicker than anyone could react, Murphy grabbed Maddox by the front of his body armor and landed a solid punch to the convict's face.

Maddox stumbled backwards as the other four members of his group fumbled over each other trying to grab a hold of Murphy, who was pulling his fist back for another blow. Springing into action, Romeo rammed his shoulder into the stomach of the inmate who was trying to get Murphy into a headlock and pinned the man up against the wall. Ripping the prisoner's helmet off, he grabbed the inmate by the hair and slammed his head against the brick wall twice before letting him fall to the ground.

Murphy was finally wrestled away from Maddox when one of the convicts caught him in a full nelson and pulled him back, allowing the fourth inmate to deliver a swift punch to his exposed midsection. Murphy hardly had a chance to recover his breath from the first hit before a fist made a solid connection with his nose, causing blood to pour down his face. Romeo saw the trouble his friend was in and rushed to his aid.

Murphy flinched as his attacker prepared to strike him again but the blow never came. Cracking one eye open, He was surprised to see Romeo on the back of the man who had been beating him, dragging the inmate to the ground. Rallying his strength, Murphy managed to break the hold of the man behind him and pull away. Before he could retaliate, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Enough of this! Keep fighting if you want, Saint, but your brother here will pay the price!"

Murphy looked over to where Connor was still out cold on the ground and his heart jumped into his throat at what he saw. Geno Pisani, the fifth member of Maddox's posse, stood over Connor's still body with the barrel of his rifle hovering over his brother's head. Murphy glanced over at Romeo before nodding at his friend and quickly raising his hands in submission. He had no doubt in his mind that Geno would pull that trigger and Murphy wasn't willing to risk his twin's life like that.

The instant he surrendered, a very angry George Maddox stormed over and punched Murphy in the head so hard it knocked him to the floor. Reaching down, the enraged convict grabbed the front of Murphy's shirt and lifted him off the ground just enough to slam his fist into his face and knock him back down again. Murphy rolled onto his side with a groan before slowly pushing himself back up to his knees, staring defiantly at the man standing over him.

"You won't be glaring much longer you Irish fuck," Maddox threatened when he saw the look of rebellion in Murphy's eyes. Digging into his pocket he pulled out two sets of handcuffs tossing one at Murphy and the other at Romeo. "Cuff yourselves," he demanded. When neither man made a move to obey, his face turned angry and he stalked over to where Geno was standing over Connor. Grabbing the gun from the other inmate he gave Connor a swift kick to the ribs and jammed the tip of the rifle against the unconscious man's temple before turning back to Murphy. "Cuff yourself or I blow a fucking hole in your brother's head!"

If looks could kill, Maddox would have been dead on the spot, but Murphy wasted no more time in disobeying. Picking up the handcuffs, he tightened them down on his wrists as Romeo followed suit.

"Good," Maddox nodded in satisfaction. Grabbing Murphy by the hair, he yanked him to his feet and directed another inmate to attend to Romeo. ""You'll be coming with us now. Someone pick this asshole up and carry him, we can't have him missing out on all the fun," he gave Connor another kick in passing.

Murphy watched as one of the convicts picked his brother up and threw him across their shoulders before leading them down the hall. An uneasy feeling in his gut was beginning to warn him that, if he didn't find a way out of this, they would all be dead before dawn.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:_ This chapter was incredibly difficult for me to write. I have literally been hung up on this chapter for the last three months and I finally have it done. I apologize if the writing is not up to par but I couldn't dwell on this anymore, I desperately want to move on with the story! Also, I have a few bits of Gaelic dialogue in this one. I don't speak the language so if the translation is off I apologize. So, good or bad, let me know what you think!_**

Chapter 6

The first thing Connor noticed when he came to was the pounding in his head that would have rivaled any hangover he had ever had. His vision was blurry but he could sense a presence nearby and, assuming it was his brother, he groaned lightly before attempting to call out to him. "Murph? What the hell happened?" When there was no response he squinted, trying to make out the shapes around him. "Murphy?" he questioned again, his tone becoming laced with concern.

"Nope, try again."

A voice in Connor's ear caused him to flinch and jerk away in surprise and he noticed for the first time that he couldn't move his arms or his legs. Craning his head around, he tried to catch a glimpse of the man who had spoken to him but the ache in his head stilled his efforts. As he became more alert, his vision cleared and he was able to get a better look at his surroundings. He was seated in a cold steel chair in the middle of, what appeared to be, one of the prisoner's educational rooms. The inky blackness beyond the barred windows told him that night had fallen, suggesting he had been out of it for a couple of hours at least. Struggling weakly, he tested his restraints, and felt the harsh metal of handcuffs digging into the soft flesh around his wrists. His ankles were fastened in a similar fashion to the legs of the chair he was seated on.

"We've been waiting for you to wake up, Saint." The voice came again, tainted with obvious disdain, and Connor felt certain that he recognized the cadence of speech, although he couldn't place it in his still fuzzy memory. "Your brother has been worried about you. Which, if you ask me, is rather foolish of him; you are in much better shape than he is at the moment."

Connor's heart pounded in his chest at the mention of Murphy and he lashed out in rage at the implication of the statement. "Ya fuckin' coward, where the fuck is he?!" he demanded, trying again to twist around and get a look at the man behind him.

A firm set of hands clamped down on Connor's shoulders and his chair was forcefully spun around until he had a clear view of the other side of the small room. The scene that greeted him sparked a fury in his heart of unparalleled proportion.

Murphy and Romeo were seated next to each other, both restrained to separate chairs in the same manner that Connor was. Romeo looked as if he had taken quite a beating, with blood flowing from a spot on his brow and one eye that was swollen partially shut. The man looked up at Connor before glancing worriedly over at Murphy who appeared to have taken the brunt of their captor's displeasure and was hunched over in his chair, blood covering one whole side of his head, eyes glazed in pain.

Connor was more than a little alarmed by his brother's seemingly weak and damaged state and he felt his ire raise another notch. "Ya guys alright?" he asked in a low voice, anger bleeding into his tone.

Murphy snapped his eyes up to meet his brother's and Connor was relieved to see the usual spark of resilience in their depths. Any response that his twin might have formed was cut off as the voice behind him continued speaking.

"Do they fucking look alright to you?" The question was followed by a hollow laugh as the mystery voice finally revealed itself, stepping around the chair into his captive's line of sight.

Connor looked up into the slightly bruised face of George Maddox and narrowed his eyes in contempt. It wasn't surprising to learn that the other convict was behind this. He had known the other man was going to be a problem from the first moment he saw him eyeballing Murphy.

"Although," Maddox continued, "it's no less than what you crazy, fucking Jesus freaks, deserve." He gave the chair a kick with a look of disgust on his face.

Connor gave a humorless laugh and shook his head at the ridiculousness of the statement. "What we deserve? That's a funny thing to say, comin' from a murderer of the innocent. Tell me, what do YOU deserve? Do ya really fuckin' believe that ya deserve to continue livin' and breathin' after all the pain you have caused in your life? The families of the people you have killed and raped, don't they deserve their justice?"

Connor's rant was interrupted as Maddox's heavy fist connected solidly with his face once, then twice. "I am paying for my crimes, you Irish piece of shit!" Grabbing a handful of the man's hair he pulled his head up and dropped down eye level with him. "I get to spend the rest of my life in this fucking shit hole. Life without parole." Maddox gave his captive a vicious shake before releasing his hold and standing back up to his full height. "I am paying for my fucking crimes and it is time someone made you pay for yours." Without warning, he hauled off and punched Connor in the head again, landing several blows before targeting his exposed chest and abdomen.

On the other side of the room Murphy was using what little strength he had left cursing and fighting his restraints, his brother's pained groans fueling his struggle. This entire situation brought back the still raw memories of the night they lost Rocco. The handcuffs. The chairs. The pain. The fear. It was that last one that motivated Murphy to push through the darkness at the edges of his vision and continue fighting despite the pull on his injured body.

Romeo felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as he sat, looking back and forth between the two brothers. He was torn between trying to calm Murphy down, and joining him in cursing at the man who was still slowly but deliberately working Connor over. After seeing the damage that Murphy was inflicting upon himself by struggling against the handcuffs, Romeo decided that talking his friend down was more important than putting up a useless fight against the metal and steel holding them down.

"Murph. Murphy! You're hurting yourself, man. This isn't helping." His attempts went unheeded as his friend continued to rage in the seat next to him. Every hit that Connor took only increased Murphy's intensity until he managed to scoot his chair several feet from its original spot, nearly tipping himself over in the process.

Geno, who had been patiently waiting for his turn to join the fun, stepped away from his spot along the perimeter of the room and strode over to where Murphy was still fighting like a wild animal.

Romeo eyed the large Italian man walking their way and, by the way he was glaring at Murphy, it wasn't hard to guess his intentions. Turning back to his friend he tried desperately to get through to him once more. "Murphy! Look at me, man! Calm down and look at me!" But it was to no avail.

Murphy was far too stubborn to stop fighting, no matter how hopeless or pointless the situation seemed, especially when it was his brother on the line. Every time the sound of knuckles meeting flesh resounded off the concrete walls, Murphy felt the fire of his fury grow inside his soul. They may not know it yet, but these motherfuckers all just made themselves dead men.

So intent was he on trying to stop what was happening on the other side of the room, Murphy didn't notice that someone had come up behind him until Geno's meaty arm snaked around his chest and neck, pulling him tightly against him.

Dropping his mouth down low to Murphy's ear, Geno spoke quietly, his thick Italian accent blending with his mocking tone. "Shhhhh Shhhhh. Relax. Relax. Conserve your energy. This show is just getting started."

Murphy refused to acknowledge the fear that was trying to take hold of him. Denying the paralyzing emotion, he shoved it down deep and allowed all of his rage to flood in and take its place. "Fuck you!" he spat out, fighting against the strong arms holding him down.

Geno gritted his teeth as he attempted to control the struggling man. "You really are a fiery one, aren't you?"

Murphy brought his chin down to his chest, intending to show the Italian man just how feisty he could be, he threw his head back in one fluid motion and heard the satisfying crunch of Geno's nose as it connected with the back of his skull.

Geno's hands flew to his face as he stumbled backwards, howling in pain. "You motherfucker!"

The injured convict stepped out in front of him and Murphy flashed a smug grin when he saw the blood pouring from the infuriated man's nose.

Swiping at the blood, Geno gingerly prodded his already swollen and bruised nose before turning a lethal glare onto Murphy. "You are going to pay for that you mick fuck. You better start praying to that God of yours, boy, because that was the last thing you will ever do!"

On the outside Murphy remained the picture of calm as he forced the smirk to remain plastered across his face, but on the inside, his blood ran cold. His body had already taken more abuse than he felt it could handle and he was silently dreading the beating that was to come.

Geno brought his fist back and, throwing his entire body into the punch, he landed his knuckles squarely into the side of Murphy's head. The hit was so powerful it rocked the chair, as well as the man chained to it, backwards, sending them both crashing to the ground.

Bright colorful spots burst in front of Murphy's vision and he was vaguely aware of a brief feeling of weightlessness before landing in a tangled heap right at Romeo's feet.

"Shit! Murphy!" Romeo cringed inwardly when his friend hit the ground in front of him and he could tell by the way the man lay stunned, trying to blink his vision clear, that he was in bad shape. Geno stepped up to Murphy's side and Romeo arched against his restraints, failing in his attempt to kick out at the ex-mobster. "Get the fuck away from him, _pendejo!_"

Geno paid no mind to the other prisoner, his anger focused completely on the bleeding man on the ground. Grabbing Murphy by the front of his prison uniform, he punched him in the face again before standing back up and delivering a swift kick to his abdomen.

Murphy felt like he was on the verge of blacking out until Geno's foot connected with his ribcage and he felt something snap. The searing pain that exploded across his midsection pulled him back from the darkness as his cries echoed off the walls in the small room.

Maddox landed a final punch to Connor's stomach when he heard the sound of Murphy crying out. Leaving Connor slumped over in his chair, he turned to face the commotion on the other side of the room. "Geno, what in the hell are you doing over there? I told you that I would give you your chance with them, but it is not your turn yet!"

Geno stopped with his leg in mid-swing and spun to face an annoyed Maddox. "The bastard broke my fucking nose!"

"I don't give a shit about your nose! You don't get them until I'm done. That was the deal!" Maddox took a few steps closer, challenging the other man to defy him.

The two convicts stared each other down in a silent struggle for power until Geno finally backed down and averted his eyes. "Well, I'm not going to wait much longer so you better finish your fucking business, quick." He gave Murphy's heaving form another light kick, eliciting a groan from the injured man.

Maddox continued to glare at the large Italian, "I will finish when I am good and fucking ready, and you will wait for as long as I tell you to."

Geno mumbled something under his breath but didn't push the issue any further as he, none too gently, grabbed Murphy's arms and hauled his chair back into an upright position.

Connor was grateful when Maddox's fist finally stopped viciously pounding his already sore body and he was given an opportunity to catch his breath. As soon as he felt the man step away, he hunched over in his chair and tried to relax his spasming muscles. His entire body felt like it was on fire and he could feel the warm stickiness of his blood as it trickled down his face. Attempting to get his diaphragm to work properly, he took a deep breath and tried to supply his body with the oxygen it was desperately lacking. After a few moments of deep breathing his head began to clear and he looked up through squinted eyes.

He was slightly surprised when he noticed Geno Pisani's presence among them, although, the discovery wasn't too terribly shocking. He knew that ex-mobster was probably holding one hell of a grudge for the beating he took a few weeks past, and after witnessing the conversation between him and Maddox in the cafeteria, he could have guessed they would join forces in their mutual hatred of the Saints.

Connor tried to focus his mind on what the two men were saying and he came to the realization they were arguing over something. Geno gestured angrily to a heap on the ground at his feet and Connor lowered his gaze, trying to get a look at what exactly they were arguing over. It took his pain-dulled mind a few moments to process that the tangled heap on the floor was Murphy and the two convicts were fighting over him like he was no more than a scrap of meat. Connor felt his fury flood back full force as the two men settled their dispute and Geno pulled his twin back into a sitting position. Murphy looked horrible. His brother was ghostly pale and the contrast of the bright red blood seeping out from the corners of his mouth, against the unnatural pallor of his skin, caused Connors stomach to churn. These men were going to fucking pay dearly for this.

Maddox, satisfied that his orders were being obeyed, turned back to see Connor glaring daggers at him. "If you still have the energy to give me a look like that, Saint, then I still have a lot of work to do." Bringing his fist down he let his knuckles slam into Connor's jaw, rocking the man's head back.

Connor tried to lift his head and offer up another defiant gesture, but the simple act turned out to be too much for his abused body, as the room spun around him and his head lolled forward.

Maddox bent down so he was eye level with the man in front of him and ducked his head, trying to catch a glimpse into his prisoner's eyes. When Connor proved unable to lift his own head and meet his gaze, Maddox did the job for him, threading his fingers through his hair and yanking his head back. Taking note of the unfocused and dilated state of the man's eyes, he shook his head in genuine pity. "You know, it didn't have to be this way. I tried to offer your brother a way out. You could have served your time in peace under the safety of my protection. But you just can't seem to let go of this idea that you are somehow better than me. For some reason, you believe it is your place to play judge and jury; that your crimes are somehow justified. Well, that is bullshit and I want you to know that I see you for who you really are. Natural killers. I have been around enough of them in my day to recognize the type when I see them, and you and your brother both bear that dark mark upon your soul. The unquenchable need for blood." Maddox removed his hand from Connor's hair, leaving him with the task of keeping it held upright, but maintained his eye level crouch. "You boys hide behind your religion thinking that it can justify your need to take lives. Hoping it will disguise the real reason why you do what you do. Bravo! It is a mighty fine act and it has half the population in this damned city fooled. But not me."

Connor's breathing hitched as a laugh caught in his dry throat. "Ya really have no fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about."

Maddox sighed in frustration. "You don't have to be ashamed of it. Hell, it's probably not even your fault. Stuff like this, it's in the breeding. Let me guess, you have a strong family history of violence."

Connor's eyes narrowed at the slight against his family and the simple gesture told Maddox he was on the right track.

"An uncle, or a grandfather, perhaps? Or, maybe it was your daddy himself?" Maddox didn't miss the small flash of anger when he made mention of the other man's father, and he ran with it. "Your father then, huh? Spill a lot of blood, did he? See, it's like I said. These things, they run in the family. Tell me, did good ol' dad also try to reconcile his murderous tendencies by proclaiming it was the work of god?" Maddox ducked his head again and looked into Connor's eyes, making it clear that he expected an answer this time.

Connor kept his mouth shut, refusing to play into this bastard's mind games.

"Answer me," he demanded. When Connor continued to ignore the question, Maddox gave a deep, irritated sigh. "Why does everything have to be so difficult with you micks?" Leaning in closer he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "Answer my fucking question or I will go have some more fun with your brother and spic friend over there while you rethink this silent treatment."

Connor shot a quick glance over Maddox's shoulder, making eye contact first with Murphy, then Romeo. His twin was still horribly pale and his breathing labored, it was painfully obvious that his brother's body could handle no more abuse. Gritting his teeth, Connor redirected his attention back to Maddox.

"Our father heard the calling, the same as us. However, the only people who had reason to fear him were people like yourself. People, who threaten, rape and steal the lives of the blameless. The scum of the Earth." Connor spat the insult in Maddox's face boldly. "Our father gave up his home, his family, and his freedom, dedicatin' his life to protectin' the innocent, and my brother and I are proud to follow in his footsteps. If that makes us 'natural killers' then so be it, but you and I, we're not the same."

For several long, breathless moments, Maddox remained perfectly still as he read the conviction behind Connor's words. In the span of a second, the convict's face contorted into a mask of rage and he landed his fist heavily into Connor's midsection, leaving the man gasping for air. "If that is what you believe then you are lying to yourself, Saint!" Maddox yelled in his face before punching him again.

On the other side of the room, Murphy, despite his ongoing sturggle to breath, picked up where he left off in shouting obscenities at the man beating his brother. "Motherfucker! Fucking coward piece of shit." His curses broke off as he fell into a vicious coughing fit, but he didn't give up in his fight.

At the sound of Murphy's voice, Maddox stopped mid-swing and turned to face his other two captives. His anger slipped away and his expression turned thoughtful as he glanced back and forth between the three prisoners. Almost as if a light bulb had been turned on in his brain, his eyes lit up and a cruel smile split his face. Turning back to Connor, Maddox grabbed the arms of the steel chair and pulled him over so he was sitting directly across from Murphy and Romeo.

Connor was aware of Maddox walking away as he talked quietly to one of his fellow conspirators, but his focus remained on his brother and friend in front of him. Romeo didn't seem to be any worse off than he had been earlier, however, Murphy looked like pure hell. Connor's eyes roved over his brother's body, appraising his condition, and the sight of his twin's many injuries stoked the already smoldering embers in his heart.

He stopped his assessment when he felt Murphy's gaze on him and, looking up, he latched onto the blue eyes that were so similar to his own. They didn't waste their energy or breath exchanging comforting words or useless platitudes. Everything they needed to say was communicated through the silent connection they had developed over a lifetime of constantly being by each other's side. Connor read the disquiet in his twins eyes as clearly as if he had spoken aloud. _This situation is fucked and we don't have much longer here. _Connor nodded, and felt an acute sense of helplessness flood through him. He had no answers this time. No elaborate and genius plan on how to get them out of this impossible situation. He could feel the weight of both Romeo and Murphy looking to him for answers, but he had nothing, and his self-perceived failure was tearing at him.

The sound of a door scraping open and slightly muffled voices on the far side of the room caused all three of their heads to snap up simultaneously as they sought out the source of the disturbance. Connor could see Maddox standing at the door of the small room, arguing with someone out in the hallway, and could only just make out what the man was saying.

"I don't care. The plans have changed and I need him now."

The person in the hall responded but he couldn't quite catch the faint words. Maddox gave a nod and stood waiting at the door for several long moments before the ragged form of a man was shoved forcefully through the opening, tripping and landing hard on his side as he entered.

Connor and Murphy shared a confused glance before turning back and watching as Maddox grabbed the newcomer by the handcuffs that were restraining him and hauled him to his feet. They could tell by his clothing that this man was a prison guard, but it wasn't until Maddox drug him over and pushed him into an empty chair next to Romeo, that they were able to recognize him as Officer Jones.

The guard was battered and bruised and appeared genuinely surprised at finding the Saints in their current situation. The same shock was mirrored on Connor and Murphy's faces and they were slightly disturbed by the new direction this was taking.

"Are we ready to have some fun?" Maddox's loud voice rang out, leaving them little time to ponder this new turn of events. Snapping his fingers, he motioned to someone out of their line of sight and, after a short moment, Geno appeared carrying one of the liberated rifles, moving to stand behind Murphy, Romeo and Officer Jones.

Maddox didn't miss the uneasy expression that took over Connor's face, and he grinned down at him. "Don't look so worried. We're just going to play a little game." Chuckling, he moved so he was standing next to Geno, allowing him a clear view of his brother and friend. "Since you seem to believe that having your hands free from the blood of the innocent is what sets you apart from every other killer, I am going to show you that, despite your divine proclamations, deep down, you are nothing more than a cold blooded murderer. I think that when it comes down to the life of someone you love," he rested a hand on Murphy's shoulder, "you would do whatever it takes and kill whomever you have to, innocent or not. Say for instance," Maddox stepped over to Jones, dropping his hands down on either shoulder, " good ol' Officer Jones, here. Hardly the kindest amongst the prison staff, but innocent enough I suppose. If you had to choose between his life and the life of your brother, would you really be willing to sacrifice your own flesh and blood for this man? This man who, I swear, the sole purpose of his existence is to make the life of every con in this place as miserable as possible?"

The more Maddox spoke the colder the knot in the pit of Connor's stomach became. He didn't, at all, like the direction this was headed and his mind began working furiously on how to diffuse the situation. "What do ya want? Ya want to hear me admit to my crimes? Admit that I feel no remorse for the people that I have killed? Because you're right, I don't. I haven't lost any sleep over the lives that I have taken, and there was no hesitation when I pulled the trigger. If these are the things that make me a murderer, then I guess I'm a regular natural born killer, and I deserve to be in this place as much as you do." Connor ignored the amused expression spreading across Maddox's face and pressed on with his desperate confession. "You're absolutely right, if it came down to Murphy's life or the life of anyone else on this planet, I would choose my brother every time, and I would do so without hesitation." He was bluffing. He knew that, even if he made the choice to put his twin before the life of an innocent person, Murphy would never allow such a thing to happen. It went completely against what they stood for, and he hoped beyond hope that Maddox would accept his admission and move on. It was wishful thinking.

Letting loose a hearty laugh, Maddox gave his head a shake and walked back over to Connor's side, kneeling down so he could meet his eyes. "I am glad you finally set aside your denial," his tone suggested he knew otherwise, "it will make this next part easier for you." Straightening back up he moved so he was standing behind Connor's chair and bent down just enough so his mouth was next to the other man's ear. "You have a choice to make tonight, Saint. The inmates won't be able to hold this prison for long, we may have control now but I would be willing to bet that, come dawn, the tables will have turned. From what my men tell me, the National Guard have already set up a perimeter around the facility, and, I am sure, the state police have already been dispatched and are on location. It is only a matter of time until they work out a plan of action and take back the prison. So, the question you need to ask yourself is, do you want your brother and friend to still be alive when that sun comes up, or do you want to face the new dawn alone?"

Connor looked up, making eye contact first with Romeo, then Murphy. He didn't respond to Maddox's question, didn't want to play this fucker's games, instead he kept his gaze focused on his brother and prayed to the God they had devoted their lives to, that He would see them through this.

"Geno would you be so kind as to use that rifle there, and target this man's beloved brother."

Maddox's voice broke through his prayers and Connor glanced up, enraged, as Geno stepped in front of his twin, the weapon trained on Murphy's head, directly between the eyes.

"You can all walk out of this alive. You, your piece of shit brother and your Mexican, can all live to see another day, but you have to be willing to sacrifice this innocent man for your happy ending. You said yourself that killing for your family is never a problem, so prove it. I'm not even going to make you pull the trigger, just say the word and Geno here, will do the dirty work."

"You can go to hell, I won't be playin' your sick fuckin' games." Connor had spoken to Maddox but he found he couldn't take his eyes off of Murphy, who was glaring bravely through narrowed eyes up the barrel at the man targeting him.

"Come on now, you're smart enough to know that won't work." Maddox stood and moved out front so Connor could see him again. "If you refuse to play my game, then I will make up the ending myself. If you don't make a choice, the first to go will be your spic sidekick." He kicked out dispassionately at Romeo's chair. "The second to go will be your brother, although," he took a moment and assessed the way Murphy's breathing had gone from slow and labored, to wheezing with sporadic coughing, "it doesn't look like he will make it much longer anyway. Then, after they are dead, I will go ahead and kill the good Officer anyway." Turning, he leered at the guard. "Sucks to be you, Jonsey, either way, you're fucked."

Connor began to panic as his options narrowed. He shot another desperate glance at his brother before fixing stormy blue eyes on the cruel man in front of him. "Alright then, if I have to make a choice, I choose myself."

Murphy's eyes went wide and his head snapped in his Connor's direction. "Ní gá duit fucking leomh, Connor! /Don't you fucking dare, Connor!/"

The words had been spoken in Gaelic for Connor's ears alone, but he refused to look Murphy in the eye, instead keeping his focus on Maddox, silently willing the man to accept his offer.

Maddox looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I have no intention of killing you. Whatever decision you make here tonight, you have to live with it. Watching you torture yourself for the rest of your sentence is going to be half the fun!" He bumped Geno with his elbow and the two convicts shared a chuckle. "Now, enough stalling, time to choose, Saint. If you haven't reached a decision by the time I count to ten, your amigo here gets a bullet."

Connor was at a complete loss, how could anyone expect him to make a decision like this. It was impossible.

"One."

He looked to Officer Jones. The man looked terrified. The guard had never been particularly friendly to them but, hell, he worked in a prison surrounded by violent criminals. Who wouldn't develop a chip on their shoulder after years spent working under these conditions?

"Two."

Damn it! Jones didn't deserve to die, and Connor knew he couldn't sentence an innocent man to his death for the amusement of these sick bastards. So where did that leave him?

"Three."

His eyes darted frantically over to Romeo who was watching him closely with wide eyes. He looked scared but was doing a decent job of masking it with a commendable show of bravery. The man had been fiercely loyal to the Saints and their mission and Connor couldn't let his friend die like this. It would be Rocco all over again and the guilt would be too much.

"Four."

"What the fuck do you want from me?! You can't just expect me to make a choice like this!" Connor fought his restraints in a moment of hysteria.

"Five."

Chest heaving, he glanced over at his brother who was starting to put up a fight of his own. Geno had removed the tip of the rifle from Murphy's forehead and repositioned it above Romeo's heart, preparing to take his shot.

"Six."

Connor latched eyes with his twin and held on like it was his lifeline. "Níl a fhios agam cad atá le déanamh, Murph! Cad a dhéanfaidh mé? /I don't know what to do, Murph! What do I do?/

"Seven."

The defeated slump of his brother's shoulders and the devastated look on his face broke Murphy's heart. "Níl rud ar bith is féidir leat a dhéanamh. Níl sé do locht, Connor. An bhfuil tú ag éisteacht liom? /There is nothing you can do. It's not your fault, Connor. Do you hear me?/

"Eight."

Connor felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes but denied the emotion; instead he turned his feelings of hopelessness into a desperate show of rage. Ignoring his screaming injuries and his bloodied wrists he kicked out and cursed at an unfazed Maddox.

"Nine."

Spots danced before his eyes and he had no energy left to fight. He was exhausted and despair had set in like a heavy cloud upon his shoulders. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

"Ten."

The sound of gunfire echoing off the walls in the small room was deafening.

**A/N:_ I know, I know, another cliffhanger. I don't know what's wrong with me, just please be patient._**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

For as long as he lived, Connor would never forget the wide-eyed, shocked expression on his friends face as he stared down at the hole in his chest. It was an image that would haunt his dreams for years to come. The guilt flowed from his conscience as freely as the blood pouring from Romeo's body, and he knew that he could never forgive himself for this. How could he have let this happen? He should have made the choice that would have kept them all alive and begged God for forgiveness later. But he couldn't do that.

"No. Rome, I'm sorry. Please, I'm so sorry!" His voice sounded small in his ringing ears and he was aware of the tears rolling down his face.

Looking up, Romeo met Connor's eyes and shook his head; he didn't want his friends to torture themselves over this. The time he had spent with the MacManus brothers had been the most rewarding and fulfilling time of his life and he wouldn't trade it for anything. He needed them to know that but, when he opened his mouth to speak, the only thing that came out was more blood.

Murphy had watched in silent shock as the bullet entered Romeo's chest, but seeing his friend struggle to speak was the last straw for him and he snapped. Alternating between coughing and screaming, he cursed Maddox and Geno in every language he knew, and it wasn't until Romeo took his last rasping breath, that he went quiet, his shoulder's shaking with silent sobs.

"Well, that was fun! Who's up next?" Maddox looked back at Connor's defeated form as he directed Geno to move on to Murphy who didn't even bother looking up at the rifle aimed at him. "Are you still sure this is the choice you want to make, Saint?" he raised an eyebrow in question.

Glancing over at Jones, Connor wished he could make the call that would spare the life of his twin, his best friend, but he couldn't. When he didn't respond Maddox gave Geno a nod and Connor turned grief stricken eyes onto Murphy.

The brother's didn't speak, they didn't need to, they just met eyes briefly before simultaneously bowing their heads and picking up a prayer in their favored language, Gaelic.

Geno tensed, preparing to squeeze the trigger, and the gunshot that followed tore a hole through Connor's soul so deep that he knew it would never heal. He had been unable to save the person who meant more to him than anything in the entire world, and he would never be whole again.

"What in the hell?" Maddox's confused voice caused Connor to snap his head up and when he saw Murphy, alive and whole, staring back at him, he moved his gaze to Geno who was looking down in shock at the gaping hole in his chest. The Italian man stumbled backwards a few steps before crashing to the ground, unmoving.

Maddox spun toward the door and the source of the unexpected gunfire, when a new voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Make one more move, George, and I will drop you quicker than you can blink."

Connor squinted his eyes at the young man who was standing on the far side of the room with a 9mm glock aimed directly at Maddox's head. Although the man was dressed in an inmate uniform, he could have sworn that he recognized him as one of the prison guards.

"Get down on the floor, hands behind your head." Motioning toward the ground, the newcomer took a few tentative steps forward while keeping his weapon expertly trained on the convict.

Maddox looked furious at having his plans interrupted and he considered the man in front of him with cold eyes.

"Down on the ground!" he ordered again as he adjusted his grip, preparing to fire.

Looking around the small room, Maddox appeared to be weighing his options. For a moment it looked as if he were going to surrender as he raised his blood stained hands in the air and dropped to one knee, but as soon as the younger man started moving toward him, he jumped to his feet and made a dash for the second exit at the front of the classroom.

The newcomer reacted without hesitation, taking a second to adjust his aim before firing off a quick shot. Maddox stumbled as the bullet lodged itself in his leg, just above the knee, but the fleeing convict didn't stop and, throwing open the door, he disappeared through the opening.

"Damn it!" the young man cursed under his breath as he lowered his gun.

Officer Jones shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. "Edwards, what in the hell are you doing here? All of the guards who were able were supposed to fall back and join the team outside the facility."

Turning back to the remaining captives, he gave Romeo's still body a sad glance as he passed by on his way to Murphy's side. "We all know what started this uprising. They wanted the Saints, and I wasn't going to just leave these men to the wolves like that." Edwards didn't offer any more explanation as he turned his focus completely on to Murphy. "Are you okay?" he asked softly as he dug through his pocket and produced a large ring of different sized keys.

Murphy wasn't sure how to answer that question and he gave a quiet grunt that failed to indicate one way or the other. Nothing felt all right. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this bad off. He could feel his body failing him fast, and Romeo was… he was gone. No, nothing was okay.

Edwards gave the man a sympathetic look and took in the mixture of tears and blood that covered his face. He laid a gentle hand on Murphy's shoulder before bending down and flipping through his ring of keys. Selecting the small silver handcuff key, he inserted it into the cuff around the Irishman's left wrist and let the restraint fall away before starting on the other side.

Once Murphy was free, Edwards grabbed the man's arm and, putting it around his shoulders, he slowly pulled him to his feet. "You got it?" The young guard was concerned by how weak and unstable the prisoner felt but he had to get started on releasing the others, they needed to move quickly before anyone else found them or Maddox came back with reinforcements.

"Aye…" Murphy tried to respond but his voice broke off into another coughing fit and he nodded around the spasms.

Edwards waited until the coughs had subsided and the wounded man had his balance before moving on to the lighter-haired twin.

Connor regarded the man in front of him curiously. He had watched and was surprised by the gentle kindness this stranger had shown his brother as he un-cuffed him and kept him steady on his feet. Most guards didn't give two shits about the inmates and he didn't understand why this one had risked everything to help them. "Why are ya doin' this?" His voice was raspy from yelling and he attempted to clear his throat. "Why would ya come back in here and endanger your life for us?"

Edwards looked up from where he was busy unlocking the cuffs around Connor's ankles and met his eyes with a steady gaze. "You don't deserve any of this. I suppose I could have just walked away and looked to my own safety, but I owe you more than that. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I left you to the mercy of these men."

Connor was confused. "And why exactly do you feel you owe us anythin'?"

Edwards dropped his gaze and returned his focus to the task at hand. "I have my reasons."

The response was so quiet Connor almost didn't catch it, but he decided this mystery was best left for later and didn't push it any further. "Well, whatever your reasons, thank ya."

The last of the restraints fell free with a clink, and Edwards gained his feet. "You don't have to thank me. Can you stand?" He held his arms out, ready to help the other man out of the chair.

Leaning heavily on the young officer's shoulder, Connor accepted the help and stood stiffly to his feet. After taking a few moments to steady himself, he mustered his strength and headed over to where his brother was standing over Romeo's body. When he reached his twin's side he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze, causing him to look up and meet his eyes. The unshed tears that Connor saw shining in their blue depths tugged at his conscience and served as a reminder of how horribly he had failed them.

"Here, see to your friend." The brothers both turned to see Edwards offering up the ring of keys.

"You should help him first." Connor nodded in Jones's direction.

The young man narrowed his eyes at his superior officer who, in turn, lowered his gaze to the floor. Turning back to the two men he proffered the keys again. "He can wait."

Murphy accepted them without hesitation and, with the utmost tenderness, he began freeing his friend's bruised wrists from the harsh metal. Once he had them all unlocked he passed the keys back to Edwards and together he and Connor lay Romeo's body out gently on the floor. The weight proved to be too much for Murphy's injured body and he groaned in pain as he collapsed to his hands and knees, unable to catch his breath.

"Christ Murphy, let me take a look at ya." Connor attempted to press his brother back so he could check him over but he shoved him lightly away.

"Not yet," he protested around wheezing breaths, "we need to pray first." He nodded his head toward Romeo and crawled past twin to his friend's side.

"Aye." Connor relented with a nod, his response merely a whisper.

The brother's knelt on either side of Romeo's body and Murphy brushed his hand down the man's pale face, closing his eyes, as Connor crossed his limp arms across his chest.

Edwards listened curiously from where he was unlocking Jones's handcuffs to the prayer the Saints were reciting, and he found himself fascinated with the strange language they were speaking in perfect unison with each other.

When they were done, Connor and Murphy both crossed themselves before each planting a gentle kiss to their friend's forehead.

Connor's shoulders shook softly as another tear escaped his eyes and rolled down his face. "I'm so sorry Rome. Please forgive me."

Murphy felt his heart break at the sound of his brother's guilt-driven grief and, looking up, he gripped his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. "This isn't your fuckin' fault, Connor. Don't ya dare start blamin' yourself for this, ya know he wouldn't want ya to do that."

Connor shook his head, clearly not ready to let himself off the hook so easily. "It was my fuckin' choice, Murph. I might as well have pulled the fuckin' trigger myself."

Murphy moved his hand from his twin's shoulder to the side of his face forcing him to look at him, willing him to accept his words. "There _was_ no fuckin' choice! You did the only thing you could do and it's not your fault." His eyes hardened and he dropped his hand back to Rome's chest, covering the bullet hole. "It's not your fault," he repeated quietly. "That mantle of guilt belongs to someone else." Raising his eyes back up to capture his twin's the two men held a silent conversation only they were privy to.

After several long moments they both dropped their gazes, nodding in agreement. Giving Romeo's chest one last pat, they stood to their feet and strode purposefully over to where Geno's body lay sprawled on the floor. Bending down, Connor snagged the rifle from where the man had dropped it and followed Murphy toward the exit.

Edwards looked up from where he was finishing up with Jones and watched in surprise as Connor and Murphy headed toward the door. "Wait, where are you going?" He stood to his feet and hurried after them, stopping Connor with a hand on his shoulder. The cold, dangerous look in the other man's eyes when he turned to face him caused him to falter and take a step back.

"We're goin' to finish this." He turned to continue toward the door but Edwards stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Please, you can't do that." He held his hands out in a placative manner, begging them to understand. "We are running out of time and I need you to come with me. You have to let him go."

Murphy walked back to his twin's side, and rested heavily on his shoulder for support. "The only person who is runnin' out of time is that murderin' piece of shit. There is no way in hell we are letting him go."

Edwards didn't miss the way Murphy swayed on his feet or how he kept a protective armed curled around his injured ribs. "Look at you, you can hardly stand let alone go wandering through a prison full of riotous inmates who all want you dead." He noticed the determined set of the man's clenched jaw and softened his approach. "Please, come with me, I can help you."

Connor gave his head a shake. "You've helped us enough and we appreciate what you've done, but there is no force on this Earth that is going to keep that man from his date with justice."

The young guard looked back and forth between the two brothers before relenting with a sigh. "Fine, I guess I'll just have to go with you then."

Murphy exchanged a glance with his twin. "That's not smart. You should take officer Jones, here, and try to find a way out. Guards are going to be targeted just as much as we are and it's not safe."

Edwards shrugged as he checked the ammo left in his clip. "I'm aware of that. I ditched my uniform for a reason and I will be able to blend in better than you two will." Slamming the clip back into the gun, he stared hard at the brothers, daring them to argue.

"You can't go with them." All three men turned to stare at officer Jones who was walking up to the group, rubbing the stiffness out of his arms and shoulders. "You have already broken protocol coming in here like this, you will be lucky if you still have a job after tonight. If you want to salvage what is left of your career, then you must fall back to the perimeter of the facility with me." Edwards opened his mouth to argue but Jones cut him off. "I realize I am in no position to tell these two men what to do but, when we restore order to this prison, they will be held accountable for any crimes they may have committed during this riot, as will you if you go through with this. Don't throw your life away by associating with them."

Edwards felt a stab of anger at the man's calloused words and for once he didn't back down to the superior officer. "I saved your life! Hell, _they_ saved your life! If I had followed protocol you would be dead right now, and all you can do is threaten to fire me?" The young man took a deep breath and calmed himself down before continuing in a quieter voice. "I'm going with them, and if you have to fire me, then I think I can live with that."

Jones was taken aback by the outburst and he stood and stared for a moment before shaking his head and walking away, muttering something about _dumb kid _and _stupid mistake_.

Edwards watched as his the other man made his way to the back exit and slipped quietly through the door before turning back to the brothers, raising an eyebrow in question. "Shall we?"

Connor gave a sigh and shook his head at the young man's stubbornness. "Aye, you've obviously made your decision and I'm not goin' to waste anymore time tryin' to talk ya out of it." He turned back to Murphy who was still supporting himself on his shoulder, panting heavily, and his expression turned serious. His twin's condition seemed to be worsening the more he moved around and that had him concerned.

Murphy, aware of his brother's careful scrutiny, released his grip and pushed away from his shoulder, attempting to stand on his own. "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Connor, you've got worry written all over you're fuckin' face. I'm gonna be fine, let's do this."

Connor wasn't going to let him off that easily. "Ya at least need to let me have a look ya."

Murphy shook his head and started for the door again. "We don't have time for this shit, I'm fuckin' fine." The statement was followed by a series of forceful coughs that made him double over, clutching his chest.

"Oh aye, obviously, Macho Murph." He rolled his eyes as he stepped back up to his brother's side and grabbed him by the elbow. "You're not goin' anywhere till ya let me see."

Murphy straightened back up and glared at him for a moment before relenting with an annoyed sigh. With shaking fingers he began unbuttoning the front of his prison uniform. "Whatever ya say, Ma."

Normally such a statement would have earned his twin a smack upside the head, but Connor restrained himself and waited patiently for Murphy to finish fumbling with the buttons. Once the shirt was hanging loose, he pulled it back to get a better look. "Jesus." The word came out a mere whisper as he took in the deep purple-black bruise that covered the entire length of his brother's ribs.

Edwards had been standing back, giving the brother's their space, but when he caught sight of the injury, he sucked in his breath and stepped up to assist. Placing a hand on Connor's arm he shot Murphy a questioning glance. "May I?"

Murphy considered him a moment before nodding and Connor backed away, allowing the young man access to his brother.

Very gently, Edwards reached a hand out and ran his fingertips along the bruise; applying soft pressure he tested each bone for breaks. Murphy groaned and bit his lip in response to the guard's light touch on one of the offending ribs and Edwards withdrew his hand. "Well, I counted at least two broken ribs, possibly more. They are most likely jabbing inward, putting pressure on your lung, which is why you are having trouble breathing. That cough could be a possible sign of a puncture but without any kind of medical equipment it is impossible to tell."

Connor stepped around to Murphy's other side and cocked an eyebrow. "So what, you're a doctor now as well as a prison guard?"

Edwards gave a small smile. "No, not a doctor; I was training to be an EMT before I decided to make a career change."

"Interesting career change." Connor eyed the young man who just shrugged and turned his focus back to Murphy.

"Lung injuries are nothing to mess around with, especially since we don't know the extent of the injury. Any further damage could result in serious complications."

Murphy nodded in understanding as he buttoned his shirt back up and turned to his brother. "There you got to see it, happy now?"

Connor wasn't as willing to brush off the seriousness of the injury as his brother was and he frowned. "No, not really. Murph…" he hesitated knowing how his brother would react to his next words, "maybe, you should wait here, or perhaps you and Edwards should both go ahead and find a way out of here. I will be along as soon as it's done."

Murphy laughed once in disbelief before turning angry. "You're off your fuckin' nut if you think I am goin' to let ya do this alone!"

Connor held up his hands, fending off his brother's temper, he didn't want this to turn into a fight. "Please Murphy, ya can't breathe and you can barely stay upright, this may come down to a fight and you're not in any kind of shape for that."

Murphy shoved his twin away from him with as much force as he could muster. "Then don't make me waste any of my energy kickin' your fuckin ass for makin' such a stupid suggestion!"

In response to being pushed, Connor grabbed Murphy by the front of his shirt and pulled him close, his frustration getting the better of him. "Fuck you Murphy, I'm just tryin' to fuckin' look out for ya, since you seem to lack the common sense to do the job yourself!"

"Hey! This isn't going to help anything." The sound of Edwards voice caused both brothers to stop and look over at the young guard, who was coming to step in between the two men. "As foolish as it seems, I agree with him on this," he gestured to Murphy with a nod. "Neither of you are in very good shape and splitting up is not the right choice. I won't be leaving here unless it is with both of you so, if hunting Maddox down is the course you feel you must take, then I can understand that, but we need to stay together."

Connor released his brother's shirt and walked away shaking his head. "What 'the fuck' ever."

Edwards turned to Murphy and, reaching behind his back, he pulled a second glock from his waistband. "Here, you will need this."

With a grin, he accepted the proffered weapon and his fingers automatically began checking it over, making sure it was ready to go. It felt good to go through the motions and feel the familiar weight of a gun in his hand. He nodded a quick thanks to the young man before walking over to where Connor was waiting for them by the door. Murphy could feel the waves of distress radiating off his brother and he knew he needed to do something to relieve the tension between them. Throwing his arm around his twin's shoulders he pulled him in close. "We are going to find that motherfucker and kill him, along with anyone else who stands in our way, and we are going to do it the way we always have, together."

Connor glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye and gave a small half smile. "Aye, together, since your too stubborn to listen to reason." He looked back as Edwards stepped up behind them and he gave Murphy a pat on the shoulder. "All right then, let's do this."


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:** I am super late with this update and it is a rather short chapter, I apologize for both of those things, but real life has been keeping me busy. I have already started working on the next chapter so hopefully it won't take me quite as long to get it posted. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and, as always, reviews are awesome! Feedback fuels my inspiration!_

Chapter 8

The hallways of the prison were eerily quiet and seemingly devoid of life, with the exception of the three figures that crept stealthily through the darkness. Edwards was leading the small group, using his knowledge of the prison to guide them through the maze of passages, with Murphy in the middle, focusing mainly on breathing and putting one foot in front of the other, and Connor bringing up the rear, keeping one eye on his brother's stumbling form and the other behind them, protecting their backs.

Holding up a hand, Edwards signaled for them to stop before bending down and inspecting something on the ground. "Check it out." He motioned for Connor to come forward.

Murphy remained where he was, leaning heavily against the wall, as his brother brushed passed him and stepped up beside Edwards. Kneeling down Connor focused on what had caught the young guard's eye. "Is that blood?"

Edwards nodded, "I managed to get him in the leg before he ran off and I would be willing to bet that this is his trail." He took a few steps forward, pointing out more spots as he went. "It looks like he made a turn here, heading toward the cafeteria." He pointed to a bloody handprint smeared across the wall next to them.

Connor set his jaw resolutely, "Then that is where we need to go."

Inclining his head in agreement, Edwards stood from his crouch and continued down the hall.

"Why is it so quiet?" Murphy asked through panted breaths as he pushed himself away from the wall and followed the young man around the next corner. "I expected more chaos than this, where the hell is everyone?"

Edwards glanced back briefly before returning his attention to the front. "Both A and B blocks are locked down, the inmates were unable to breach the control room for those areas, however, prisoners from both C and D were out of their cellblocks and in the main building when the riot started, which means we have approximately eighty inmates running loose around here. As for where they all are, I am not entirely sure. The last communication I had said that a large number of them had overtaken the infirmary, but that was hours ago. Honestly, I expected to meet more resistance than this."

As if on cue, loud voices rang out from behind the next corner and Edwards quickly backed them up to duck into an alcove of another doorway. Putting his finger to his lips, he requested silence from the brothers.

The voices grew louder as they drew closer and Connor tensed when he was able to make out what they were saying.

"If we find them first then I get to have my fun before we bring them back."

A second voice snorted in laughter. "Yeah right, you know Maddox would beat you senseless if you touch them before he is done."

"Why the hell are we listening to that asshole anyway?" a third voice whined. "He had his go at them and he fucked it up. Time for him to share."

"Because he owns half of the inmates in this place, he organized this whole thing, he's in charge. If you don't like it you are welcome to bring your complaints to him."

The three men passed by their hiding place, unaware of their presence, and Connor shared a look with his brother as he adjusted his grip on his rifle. Murphy read what his twin was thinking and gave him a nod before pushing off of the wall, intending to step out from the cover of the shadows and into the hall.

Edwards's hand shot out in surprise and caught Murphy by the elbow. "What are you doing?" he mouthed silently.

Murphy didn't speak as he, gently but firmly, removed the guard's hand from his arm and moved out of the recess with his brother in tow.

The three inmates continued their discussion as they walked down the hall, oblivious to the two men trailing behind them.

Nodding to Murphy, Connor signaled his brother to raise his weapon as he did the same. Once they had their aim he spoke up, giving away their position. "Ya lookin' for us?" he asked, his tone dark and taunting.

The group of convicts jumped and quickly spun to face the unknown presence behind them. They didn't have a chance to get over their surprise before the sound of gunfire echoed off the concrete walls and all three men dropped to the ground, dead. Silence fell back over the dark hallway and Connor and Murphy made eye contact, sharing a satisfied smirk.

"Holy shit." Edwards muttered the words as he stepped out from his hiding place and took in the bloody scene in front of him. He held no illusions about what the Saints intended to do once they found Maddox, he knew they were out for blood, but he had expected to rely on stealth to sneak through the prison and remain under the radar until they found him. The brother's boldness had caught him by surprise and he found that, despite being fiercely supportive of the Saints and their mission, he was unprepared for the ruthless display of violence he had just witnessed. "Jesus," he mumbled again as he ran a shaking hand through his hair and tried to steady his nerves.

Connor and Murphy turned to look at the shock written across the young man's face before exchanging glances with each other. They had seen that look before. They knew that their intense form of justice took some getting used to but they didn't have time to coddle anyone. Edwards insisted on coming with them and they had to hope he could handle it.

Bending down, Connor began crossing the arms of the dead and said a quick prayer as Murphy stepped over to Edwards and laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "It's not too late, ya can still leave."

Shaking his head, Edwards met Murphy's eyes and struggled to pull himself together. "No, I'm with you on this, you just caught me off guard is all. I'm good."

Murphy gave him a pat on the back as Connor stood from his prayer and joined them. "We need to keep moving, half of the prison probably heard those shots." As soon as the words left his mouth, the sound of shouting drifted to them from the direction they had just come from, adding a sense of urgency to the situation.

Sparing one more glance at the bodies on the ground, Edwards nodded and hurried them down the hall as quickly as they could move. They made several more turns, still following the blood trail left by an injured Maddox, before he stopped them and peered carefully around the next corner. After taking a quick look he turned back to the brothers and rested his back against the wall. "I can see the front entrance to the cafeteria and it looks like he has two armed men posted at the door. If he is in there, you can bet that he isn't alone. We need to gain the element of surprise if we are going to pull this off and still make it back out alive."

Murphy wiped at the sweat that was dripping down his pale face and quirked an eyebrow. "Great. Any ideas on how to do that?"

"What about the kitchen?" Connor asked thoughtfully. "It has a separate entrance but still leads into the cafeteria. If we can manage to sneak into the kitchen, it would provide us with enough cover that we could take out a good number of guys before they even realize we're there."

Edwards seemed to be considering the plan. "That is assuming that the kitchen is clear and you don't run into any resistance that would give away your position." He kept his voice low to avoid detection by the men around the corner.

"Aye," Connor nodded seriously and appeared to be deep in thought.

Murphy noticed the expression on his brother's face and smiled to himself. It was a look he had come to recognize over the course of their lives, and it usually meant that his twin was in the process of creating some brilliantly- stupid plan that was guaranteed to either get them in serious trouble or, by some miracle of god, actually work out in their favor.

"A distraction." Connor said after a few moments.

Edwards tilted his head. "A distraction?"

"Aye, a distraction. Somethin' to draw the attention of anyone in the cafeteria away from the kitchen long enough for us to sneak in and get positioned." The young guard nodded and Connor continued. "I want ya to go with Murph. Head for the hall entrance to the kitchen, and I will give you a couple of minutes before I-"

Murphy opened his mouth to protest but Edwards beat him to it. "No, you need to stay with your brother. I know this prison better than either of you and, after I get their attention, I will be able to navigate my way back around and come in through the kitchen, behind you."

Connor stared hard at the young man, clearly not comfortable with him taking the most dangerous position upon himself. This was his and Murphy's debt to settle and he didn't need anyone else getting hurt or killed on their behalf. His conscience couldn't take any more. "What do ya plan to do?" he asked skeptically.

"I'll think of something," he stated simply, not backing down to the other man's intense gaze.

Connor turned to look at Murphy, consulting silently with his brother for a few moments before turning back to Edwards. "Fine, but be wide and don't get yourself killed. If ya find yourself in a bad way and can't make it back to us, then leave, find a way out and get to safety. Don't ya wait for us, and don't try to come back, ya understand?"

Edwards considered him through narrowed eyes before consenting with a nod. "Understood." He, of course, had no intention of abandoning the brothers. As he had mentioned before, he wasn't leaving this place unless they were all together, but he knew that arguing was pointless and would only waste time that they didn't have.

Connor appeared satisfied. "Alright then, once it's done and that motherfucker is dead, we will need to get out as fast as possible. We don't have the strength or firepower to face down eighty-some inmates, so we better make for the exit real quick-like."

Murphy nodded in agreement. "So how do we get past the two fellas' guardin' the door down there?"

Edwards pointed in the opposite direction. "Head back that way. Take your first right, then the second right after that, follow that hall like you are headed to the visitation area but make one more right before you reach the doors. That will take you directly to the back entrance of the kitchen. Let's just hope you don't meet any resistance along the way." Pulling up the sleeve of his shirt he exposed a leather-banded watch strapped to his wrist. "I will give you three minutes to start working your way around before I make my move. Hopefully, by the time you reach the kitchen, enough of them will have been drawn away that you don't encounter any problems."

"I would feel better knowin' that ya have some sort of plan worked out, and that your not just goin' to jump in there and hope for the best." Connor was still unsure about letting this young man, this kid, put himself into such a vulnerable position, and he needed to know that Edwards was going to be able to handle it.

"I do have a plan, I promise, but we don't have the time to talk through it. Someone is bound to discover us if we linger much longer, and we need to get this ball rolling. I still have every intention of getting you both out of here tonight."

Connor hesitated briefly before agreeing with a curt nod and turning back to where Murphy was leaning, hunched over, against the wall. His brother seemed to be sliding closer to the ground with every passing second and he resisted the urge to reach out and help support him. "Ya need another minute, Murph?" he asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

With a suppressed groan, Murphy straightened himself back up and shook his head. "We don't have another minute. I'm fuckin' fine, let's go." Without waiting for his brother, he started off down the hall, one hand skimming the wall for support, the other wrapped protectively around his ribs.

Connor looked back at Edwards and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be fuckin' careful, and don't forget, if you can't make it back, leave us and get out."

The young guard nodded and looked back down at his watch. "Three minutes, you better get going."

Connor gave his shoulder a pat before removing his hand and turning to follow Murphy.

Edwards watched the two men until they disappeared around the first right hand turn, then turned and leaned his back against the wall. Resting his hands on his knees, he gave a deep sigh. It was going to take a crazy amount of luck to pull this off.


End file.
